


Chrysanthemums Say You Have My Fidelity

by Kumikoseph



Series: The Language Of Flowers [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Aftermath, Angst, Coma, Dancing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everybody Lives, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Lack of Communication, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Mental Instability, Mild Gore, Nightmares, Not Really Character Death, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Psychological Torture, Romance, Spoilers, Thanos (Marvel) Dies, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2019-05-08 05:54:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 128,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14687862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kumikoseph/pseuds/Kumikoseph
Summary: Sometimes, on occasion, the aftermath can be more harrowing than the war itself.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you have not read Lilies Say Sorry, do not proceed, for you will be mega confused. This is the second story in the series, so if you haven't already, go read the first! :)
> 
> Can you believe I pumped out a 13k+ word first chapter to this new story in like a week? 
> 
> SPOILERS AHEAD!!! Do not read this unless you have watched Infinity War yet!
> 
> While this doesn't exactly follow the way things went in IW, there are some scenes that use some dialogue from the film and all that jazz so don't say I didn't warn you! ;)

A sudden disturbance jolted Amelia awake, the sound of rustling sheets and laboured breath loud in her ear, and she blinked disorientedly through the leaden darkness of the room, her mind still weighed down by the dense haze of sleep as she fought against the drowsy pull in exchange for conscious lucidity.

It became clear, rather quickly, why she had been roused from her deep slumber; the arm around her waist tightened and curled, dragging her closer to the agitated body behind her and a constrained noise of distress sounded, prompting Amelia to sit up sharply and switch on the bedside light.

“Loki”, she whispered as he clutched at her nightshirt, seemingly trying his best to tug her closer, “Wake up, you’re dreaming-”

Loki’s breaths were tight, his bare chest rising and falling with jerky movements as his insensible body experienced the torment of a particularly disquieting nightmare; his pale face was scrunched up in a tortured expression and his throat spasmed as retched gasps and grunts escaped him.

It was nothing new to Amelia. For months now, she had slept beside this man, waking in the early hours of the morning to find Loki ensnared in a grueling dream, often unable to break free from it without the help of Amelia’s voice coaxing him back to awareness; it happened several times a week, and Amelia had tried to encourage him to open up and talk about it, but Loki was nothing if not stubborn - too tight-lipped as a result of his towering pride to divulge the events of his nightmares.

“Loki”, she called out, her hands cupping his face in an attempt to get through to him and cautiously awaken the man from his imaginary plight, “Loki, it’s okay, you’re okay, it’s just a dream!”

She remained watchful, wary of any sudden movements - namely flailing limbs - thrashing in her general direction; at one point over the course of their relationship, Loki had very nearly punched her in the face, _involuntarily_ of course, in the throes of a presumably violent nightmare, and had been exceedingly apologetic upon waking - _not that it had been his fault,_ he hardly had any control of his floundering appendages throughout the duration of his aggressive dreams.

 _“Loki!”_ Amelia exclaimed, gripping the man’s shoulders to give him a cursory shake to awakeness, and his eyes shut tight briefly before flying open, wide and filled with hastily retreating remnants of horror.

Loki wheezed, shooting up into a sitting position as he fought to breathe steadily, a hand resting against his chest over his rapidly beating heart, endeavouring to calm himself; his eyes darted around the room, as though searching for the source of his terror, before landing on Amelia, accepting that they weren’t actually in any sort of danger, and he continued to take tremulous breaths.

Amelia gave him space for the moment, knowing how he hated to be coddled after stirring from a bad dream, but proceeded to soothe him with reassuring words, “It’s alright, it was just a nightmare, that’s all.”

He blinked his tired, glassy eyes, sharp respirations pacifying into a more balanced breathing pace, and he gave a wordless murmur, his bitterness and discontent culminating in an incoherent groan, that came matched with a sigh of relief that a nightmare was all it had been.

Loki kept his gaze on his fidgeting hands that lay twitching in his lap, purposefully avoiding Amelia’s attentive stare as he worked to banish the dreadful images he had witnessed in his mind, as he did almost every other night.

Eventually, Amelia deemed it safe to comfort him, shifting on her knees to wrap him kindly in her arms, and Loki appreciated the solace, his head falling voluntarily to rest upon her shoulder as he too returned the solicitous embrace. Combing her fingers gently through his long hair, Amelia nuzzled the side of his head, warm air leaving her mouth in puffs that tickled against his ear.

“It was just a nightmare”, she repeated, as she had many times before, and Loki released another sigh, sinking further into her tranquillising hold.

“Will you tell me what happened, Loki?” she enquired benignly, because she was so sure that bottling up his fears and worries was only causing further harm, bolstering the vivid, nauseating nightly visions he tried his hardest to dispel. Amelia had tried to convince him to recount the occurrences of his nightmares and her attempts usually received one of two results - either he claimed he could not recall them, or he straight up refused to disclose the details of the perturbing things he had seen.

“I do not remember”, he stated calmly, and Amelia was not surprised by this response - he was the God of Lies, after all. However, calling his bluff would merely agitate him further and likely lead to a mild fit of temper, which was not exactly how she wanted to approach the situation at three o’clock in the morning.

She could always gradually press for details once the sun was up, and Loki was in a less delicate state of mind.

“Well, whatever happened, it’s not real, okay?” Amelia reiterated, pulling back from the hug; she offered Loki a pointedly confident smile to highlight the authenticity of her statement.

Loki did not look persuaded.

* * *

 

Upon arriving at the main living quarters in the Avengers Tower, Amelia made a dramatic entrance, hopping into the room before spreading her arms wide and striking a pose, “Ta-da! I am here!”

Thor was the only one of the three inhabitants of the room who bothered to greet her with a smile, “Good afternoon, Amelia”, he nodded his head before turning back to the television show he’d been preoccupied with, while Tony was engrossed in something work-related on his digital tablet, and Loki’s eyes flickered briefly up from the book he was engaged in - but apart from that, he chose not to acknowledge her unnecessarily theatrical emergence.

Amelia did not take it personally, she had lived with the man long enough to begin to understand that Loki often preferred to let his actions do the talking when it came to showing affection - he would not make small talk or ask her about her day in the presence of others, but once they were alone, he would take her into his arms and bask in her warmth and closeness, and then he would listen to her ramble about anything that crossed her mind, listening intently like she was revealing the key to all-knowing wisdom and endless knowledge.

“I stopped by the patisserie on my way home from work”, Amelia informed with a sing-song quality to her voice, knowing that bringing treats would earn her a little more attention than she had received. She held up several paper bags, each containing a danish pastry for Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.

Thor’s attentiveness was immediately diverted from the television as he shifted on the couch to face Amelia as she rounded the back of the sofa, “Oh! Did you get the, ah, swirly one-” he made a spiraling motion with his fingers, “-with the white icing?”

“One glazed cinnamon roll for the God of Thunder”, Amelia announced, holding out the paper bag that contained the said treat, which Thor took gratefully, his eye shining with indisputed delight.

“Thank you, Amelia”, he expressed with gratitude, remembering his manners, and promptly procured the sugary treat from the bag to give it several moments of admiration before he inevitably devoured it with enthusiasm.

Amelia crossed over to where Stark was sat at the dining table, focused intensely on his work - or so it seemed - and placed down to bags upon the surface, “An almond croissant and an apple trellis for the science bros”, _one of whom was mysteriously absent -_ Bruce was likely down in the lab doing something, _ah,_ science-related, no doubt.

“Thanks Bubbles”, Tony spoke without looking up from his work, a spark of appreciation in his voice, and Amelia rolled her eyes playfully at the nickname which Tony had grown fond of using for her - possibly on the grounds of the fact that she almost always presented herself in such a vivacious way.

Amelia approached the third and final occupant of the room, sliding down in the two-seater sofa where Loki was situated, his eyes skirting over the pages of the book - _The Neverending Story_ \- in his hands, and placed the final patisserie bag down in his lap.

“A pain au chocolat for my favourite mischief-maker”, Amelia declared, making herself cosy against his side so she could comfortably rest her head on his shoulder. She noted the small smile pulling at his lips and the pleased glint in his eyes; he did not speak, but instead he gave a nudge of his cheek against her forehead - an action so simple and yet so saturated with fondness.

Amelia couldn’t help but grin, “What part are you at?” she enquired, referring to the novel he was currently reading.

“The Swamp of Sadness”, Loki answered matter-of-factly, and Amelia cringed slightly.

“Ooh, not my _favourite_ part of the book”, she stated off-handedly, letting her hand rest above his knee. She enjoyed such natural and relaxed contact, even more so when Loki dropped one hand from his book to cover her own, squeezing it gently with endearment as his eyes continued to glide across the page he was on.

Bruce Banner entered the room, giving Amelia a nod of salutation when he noticed her, and quickly spotted the remaining patisserie bag on the table, “Oh, sweet, is this what I think it is?” he spoke, gravitating towards the treat without a moment of hesitation.

“Your favourite”, Amelia declared with a wink.

“You are fantastic, y’know that?” Bruce responded, already taking his place at the dining table to consume the almond croissant Amelia had meticulously picked out for him.

Amelia’s response was a bashful grin, always happy to lighten up the day for the Avengers by benevolently bringing them their favourite sweets - it was the least she could do while they had to endure her often overly-spirited presence at a near constant rate.

Turning her attention back to Loki, Amelia looked up from where her head rested upon his shoulder to observe his face - he was blatantly aware of her scrutiny in his peripheral vision but paid her no mind for the moment, persisting in reading the fantasy story he seemed so interested in. The God of Mischief seemed a lot less tense than he had been that morning, now loose and relaxed as opposed to taut and upset from his nightmare, but even still, Amelia could make out redness in the corners of his eyes, betraying the fact that he was being deprived of sufficient resting time during the night.

Her hand subconsciously tightened on his leg, and that was when Loki slipped a bookmark into the page he was on, placed his book down, and turned his attention to Amelia, one of his eyebrows perfectly arched in an expressive way that implied he had picked up on her restless thoughts.

“Something on your mind?” he asked inquisitively, and Amelia gave him a small smile.

“I was just thinking…” Amelia began, “I’m off work tomorrow, and the weather’s gonna be nice… perhaps we could go for a walk in Central Park?” she shrugged weakly, trying to seem nonchalant but secretly hoping that Loki would spot the hopefulness in her voice - a walk in the sun could potentially help to ease his troubling nights, and maybe in such a serene setting, she could convince him to open up a little about the subject of his dreams.

Loki watched her closely for a few seconds, his eyes flicking between her own with curiosity, perceptive enough to know that a simple walk through the park wasn’t the only reason she wished for him to join her.

“If you wish”, he eventually replied, succumbing to the inducement of Amelia’s long, fluttering eyelashes, and Amelia smiled at his assent before nestling against his side, breathing in the pleasantness of his peppermint scent.

After a long day of work, Amelia was looking very much forward to curling up to Loki in bed that evening, and partaking in some titillating pillow talk before inevitably engaging in rather _intimate_ activities-

The peace of the lazy afternoon was broken when Thor abruptly shut off the television and rose to his feet, head tilted back as if he had seen something incredibly interesting on the ceiling.

“What is it, Heimdall?”

Amelia frowned, very confused by Thor’s sudden seemingly aimless inquiry, and she looked to Loki to find his lips parted with curiosity as he watched his brother. Thor’s eye flickered back and forth as he listened intently to something that Amelia was deaf to, and slowly the God of Thunder’s expression warped into something like intense trepidation. A grim dissonance fell upon the room as all eyes watched Thor, everybody sensing the nervous tension that was promptly emanating from the man as he paid attention to what Amelia assumed was some sort of ethereal voice.

“...Xandar?” Thor expelled in an apprehensive breath, “Heimdall, who is doing this?”

There was a silent beat, and then Thor relayed a name.

“Thanos?”

Something was very wrong; Amelia rarely heard Thor sound so unsettled, but the thing that spurred her heart into a sporadic rhythm was the way Loki went still beside her; his eyes were wide and his lips were pursed shut - the usual pink of his cheeks drained to white as he appeared void of emotion - but something about this reaction filled Amelia with a sense of foreboding, because it was irrefutably parallel to the way Loki acted upon awakening from his nightmares.

Thor looked to Loki, a trace of urgency about him, “We must go.”

“Hold up, hold up, what’s going on?” Bruce interjected, rising from the table, and it seemed he too did not like Thor’s dire tone.

“Heimdall has witnessed a brutal assault on the planet Xandar, a being by the name of Thanos-” he directed this information toward Loki, “he intends to gather the infinity stones - we can not let that happen.”

Loki adopted a far off look, his eyes drifting across the floor as he became lost in his thoughts, and Amelia observed his face with worry as Bruce and Tony pressed Thor with questions about what in the hell was going on. Amelia touched Loki’s shoulder, pulling him from his wired reverie, and his deep green eyes met hers, full of what was unmistakably a lack of certainty.

“Loki?” Amelia asked softly, voice unsteady, but he did not answer her unspoken plea for reassurance, instead rising to his feet.

“What do you propose, brother?” Loki asked, his words calm and composed as always, but with an underlying darkness that Amelia was not at all fond of.

Thor, it seemed, was resolute in what had to be done, “We must go to Xandar”, he proclaimed, and Loki shook in head incredulously.

“You realise that by the time we reach Xandar, it will be too late. We have no ships that are capable of manipulating or navigating wormholes. We have _quinjets-”_

“We have the Commodore”, Thor reminded him, and Loki blinked a few times fast.

“Okay, _yes,_ but it will still take _time-”_

“Then we will aid the survivors of the attack”, Thor spoke grimly, “and we will find out from them all we can about Thanos. We must gather intel.”

Loki fell silent and Amelia’s gaze fell to his fists which opened and closed rhythmically as he mulled on Thor’s plan, shaking his head again before a defeated look took hold of him and he pinned Amelia with an apologetic stare, “We may have to postpone that walk in the park, Amelia.”

The preparation was instantaneous - within just an hour, Thor and Loki were ready to depart, setting their sights skyward, towards the stars, where they hopefully would not find too much trouble. Amelia’s hands shook with her nerves, her brain quick to invent all the possible ways their mission could go wrong - who was this _Thanos_ and why did the mention of his name leave Loki so disconcertingly rigid?

Loki had left for missions before, but only those pertaining to planet Earth, and never for more than a few days; Amelia was more than capable of going about her life without coming back home to Loki every day, but this time something felt different - something about Loki’s initial reaction scared her, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t going to be like any other _normal_ Avengers assignment.

“Stark, Banner, I urge you to seek out Doctor Strange-”

 _“Who?”_ Tony swiftly cut Thor off, quirking an eyebrow at the name.

“He is a Midgardian wizard, a powerful sorcerer, and his skills may prove to be invaluable should anything happen in our absence”, Thor informed bleakly, “Thanos, if he cannot be stopped in time, will inevitably come to Earth to seek out the mind stone which resides with Vision. Find him, if you can, and warn him of what may be coming. You can find Doctor Strange at 177a Bleecker Street.”

Bruce rubbed his temple, “Ah, jeez. This is a lot to take in”, clearly he was not mollified by Thor’s advice to obtain as much help as they could.

Amelia paced back and forth off to the side as Thor suggested various courses of action, contemplating the threat that Thanos posed - the God of Thunder was visibly agitated, and Loki had appeared overwrought after Heimdall had contacted them, which meant this foe was powerful, but more powerful than two gods? Amelia couldn’t fathom it, and before she knew it, she was biting at her fingernails, which was something she only did when she was beyond anxious.

Loki had disappeared, Amelia suddenly realised, while Thor, Tony and Bruce were busy reviewing the situation, and she quickly scampered from the living quarters, looking up and down the corridor in search of her lover. She wasn’t entirely sure why, but her legs carried her to her and Loki’s room, where she lifted her hand to open the door only for it to fling open suddenly, startling her in the process and revealing the man she loved.

Amelia looked up at Loki, who briefly wore a very dismal look before he covered it up in an instant, replacing it with nonchalance; she wasn’t sure why he had come to their room - it wasn’t like there was anything in there that he needed for his mission - but it didn’t really cross her mind to ask, she was far too in need of some assurance.

“Loki”, she said, “please tell me that everything is going to be okay.” Amelia took his arm, holding onto him tightly as she pined for a promise that their mission would end successfully, and both of them would return unscathed.

Loki licked his bottom lip, mouth hovering open for a moment before he closed it, and his hesitance instilled fear in Amelia’s heart.

“Please. Tell me you’ll come back and it will be fine.”

Another few moments of discomfiting silence ensued before Loki smiled, his eyes warm and glinting, before he cupped her freckled cheeks with his large hands and kissed her, chaste and affectionate, leaving Amelia just a little bit dizzy. He broke the kiss but did not pull away, forehead pressed against hers as he stroked his thumbs against her skin.

“All will be fine, do not worry”, he told her, “We shall deal with the threat, and I will return, Amelia.” His words were confident and purposeful, soothing her fears in an instant, and Amelia sighed softly through her nose, finding the peace to return his pacifying simper.

Perhaps she had overreacted, read into the situation with her own fears, projecting distress where there otherwise was none, and Loki was actually optimistic that their mission to stop Thanos would go swimmingly - there was no doubt in his eyes, and Amelia felt just a little bit silly for believing differently-

Loki pulled her to his chest, lips brushing the side of her head as he whispered, “I love you.”

Amelia began to cry, and it took a lot of coaxing for her to let him go.

* * *

 

It took Thor and Loki one week to reach Xandar, and in that one week, Loki remembered the rationale for why he had despised sharing a bedroom with Thor as a child - _the damn oaf snored louder than a roaring Bilgesnipe._

Precisely three days into their voyage through the dark depths of space, Loki considered opening up the airlock hatch and kicking Thor into the deep recesses of nothingness so he could go about the rest of the assignment in _peace,_ but even Loki knew that doing so would not be such a smart idea - not if he wanted to stop Thanos. He would need all the help he could get.

Loki settled with dragging himself to the edge of his bunk and kicking Thor, who lay unconscious in the adjacent cot, in the side. The oaf didn’t awaken, but he stirred and rolled onto his side, silencing the snorting sounds from his throat, and Loki let his head fall back against the pillow, eyes slipping closed, and breathed, _“Sweet Norns,_ some serenity at last.”

Roughly forty-two seconds later, Thor’s croaking snores began again.

Loki gave an infuriated groan, running his hands over his face in an irked manner, “No, no that’s fine. It’s not like I wanted to sleep anyway”, he hissed quietly, kicking the thin, flimsy cover from his body, and slid from his narrow bed to pad towards the cockpit and slump down into the pilot’s chair.

Even in the more isolated area of the ship, Thor’s bellowing snores drifted in like the external sound of an engine, and the God of Mischief tried his best to drown out the noise by staring into the empty reaches of the cosmos, counting the distant, twinkling stars.

He had not wanted to leave Amelia, but he had to keep her safe. Taking the Tesseract away from Earth would ensure that Thanos did not go looking for it in Avengers Tower - the mere thought of Amelia coming face to face with that _monster_ was distressing to say the least, and he would do everything in his power to make sure that would never transpire.

His nightmares could not come to fruition.

The images plagued him. Perhaps it was for the best that Thor kept him up with his uproarious racket, at least this way his dreams could not afflict him.

He did not want to see Amelia die again, and again, and again at the hands of Thanos, nor did he want to be forced to watch the Mad Titan torture his brother while he watched on, powerless to stop him. He did not want to listen to their screams, begging for him to help them while there was no feasible way for him to reach them, trapped in a transparent encasing that would not shatter however many times he struck it.

_He did not want it to become reality._

“Brother.”

Loki had been too lost in the recollection of his nightmares that he didn’t notice when Thor’s thunderous, snorting breaths had ceased, and the sound of Thor’s voice from right behind him left him startled.

“Can’t sleep?” Thor enquired as he slumped down in the co-pilot’s chair beside his brother.

Loki gave the man a weary glare, “Not really, no.”

“You look tired, though”, Thor commented innocently, cocking his head and blinking sleepily before drawing his attention to the screen that displayed their flight progress and various other statistics.

“Do I now?” Loki responded, the drawl of his voice so deadpan that surely Thor would be able to pick up the sarcasm in his tone.

“You do, brother.” Thor was entirely oblivious, clearly unaware that he sounded similar to an unremitting explosion when he slept, and thus ignorant to the fact that Loki’s fatigued state was partially his doing, “You should get some rest. I have reason to believe that Thanos will not be an easy opponent.”

Loki blinked his eyes hard, trying to dispel the blurriness around the edges of his vision, “No… he will not.”

The proceeding silence lasted several minutes, but Loki knew from the way Thor kept glancing at him out of the corner of his eye that he was just dying to ask a question.

“What do you know of Thanos?” Thor finally asked, and Loki pursed his lips, not wishing to speak of his incarceration upon Thanos’s ship which had preceded his attack on New York over six years ago, but knowing that any piece of information may help them attain the upper hand over the Mad Titan.

Eventually, Loki released a sigh.

“He… he captured me. After I fell from the Bifrost”, Loki revealed, and Thor’s face hardened at the revelation, but he did not interject, “He subjected me to what seemed like endless torture - I don’t know for how long - it was… _constant._ I withstood the abuse for as long as I could, but I gave up hope that you would find me.”

Loki knew that his words had evoked guilt when Thor averted his gaze and dropped his head.

“...I am sorry, brother. If I had known-”

“I know, don’t get sentimental.” Loki swiftly cut him off, making a show of rolling his eyes, “Anyway, he- he was the one who sent me to Earth with the Chitauri.”

The few years in which he had been confined in Thanos’s ship and made to endure agonising treatment were like Hel - he had refused Thanos’s initial offer to serve under him, for he despised the idea of being subservient to the Mad Titan, and thus he had been made vulnerable to the worst kind of punishment. Thanos very quickly became aware that Loki particularly did not fair well when he was exposed to extreme heat, and so he spent his days screaming his throat raw as his body was subjected to heat torture.

Even when Loki had buckled under the pain and begged for it to end, going as far as to promise submission, Thanos did not let up, not believing for one moment that Loki would not try to double-cross him given the chance - and so the suffering continued, until Loki’s mind had truly been broken, and he was too afraid to deceive the Mad Titan.

Only then had Thanos’s torture abated, and Loki had _pathetically_ sworn loyalty to him, terrified into compliance.

He hated himself for it, but he hated Thanos more.

“I will kill him for what he did to you”, Thor vowed, fire in his eye.

Loki smiled mirthlessly, “You’ll have to beat me to it.”

* * *

On the seventh day, they reached Xandar.

A loud, intermittent beep jogged Loki from his slumber; he sprung from his narrow bunk, changing into his black and green leather ensemble with just a wave of his hand and joined Thor in the ship’s cockpit all within the space of about four seconds.

He watched Thor tap a few buttons to disengage the alarm, before catching sight of the scene ahead, “An asteroid field?” Loki enquired, a little exasperated that the ship had startled him awake for something as menial as a sea of rocks.

Thor said nothing, staring hard at the view, and that was when Loki realised they had ceased movement.

“Why have we stopped? Surely you can navigate an asteroid field without much difficulty, brother?”

“It’s not an asteroid field”, Thor responded, his voice glacial.

Loki frowned, eyes falling to the control panel where a monitor revealed their estimated time of arrival at the planet Xandar.

_You have reached your destination._

Loki felt his jaw clench, returning his gaze to the sight ahead - _not just a sea of rocks, then._

It was Xandar, in pieces.

“He annihilated the planet”, Loki blurted out, not generally one for stating the obvious but somehow unable to stop the words leaving his mouth; his nerves spiked as he realised the power Thanos wielded with just one infinity stone - _if he were to collect any of the others…_ Loki did not want to think about it.

“I don’t understand”, Loki continued, “Thanos seeks to decimate life, to take out _half_ the population, not the entire population…” Glancing down, Loki found Thor’s hands clenched so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.

“Perhaps they chose to fight back”, Thor icily stated, “And he did not agree with their courageousness.”

Loki fell quiet, allowing Thor some time to simmer down as he himself dwelled on this development - with this display, they had a taste of Thanos’s capabilities, and it did not bode well for them, Loki knew when he was outmatched.

“What do we do now?” Loki asked calmly, “It’s not like we can summon Surtur to take care of this mess for us - we cannot compete with Thanos”, he shook his head, “The universe is doomed…”

Thor turned his head, gaze locking with Loki’s, “No, we still have a chance”, he proclaimed, and Loki gave a bitter smile.

“You are delusional, brother. Perhaps we may have stood a chance against Thanos before, but he has the Power stone now. We cannot defeat him-”

“Yes, we _can”,_ Thor interposed, grabbing Loki’s upper arm and squeezing it as though offering reassurance, “We _can_ defeat him. Together.”

Before Loki could repudiate, the ship lurched, sending the two occupants into a scramble to hold on tight until their ship stabilised itself. Loki grunted, surveying the outside of the vessel through the front screen, searching frantically for any sentient threats - but found none.

“What was that?” Thor groaned, rubbing his neck where it had whipped sideways upon the mysterious impact.

“An asteroid bumped into us, I think”, Loki answered confidently, before sending his brother an admonishing glare, “You’re in the pilot’s seat, stay alert.”

 _“You_ stay alert”, Thor countered childishly, before composing himself again, “We need to develop a plan of action.”

“You’re the king”, Loki drawled, “What do you propose?”

Thor rolled his eye, “You’re not being helpful”, he mumbled, “Gods, I wish I had my hammer.”

“Well you don’t have your hammer”, Loki affirmed, growing exasperated, “You hammer is gone forever.”

“But if I _did_ have a hammer…” Thor trailed off, scratching his fingers through his beard, and Loki almost missed the glint of an idea in his bright, blue eye. Thor lit up, a new glow of resolution illuminating his face, and at once Thor began to skim the control panel, tapping buttons to input new coordinates, “I know where we must go next.”

Thor set a new flight path and pressed forward on the acceleration, only for the ship’s computer to emit a short, high-pitched sound.

“Huh?” Thor uttered, frowning with confusion.

“Did you stall the ship?” Loki sardonically enquired, “Input invalid coordinates?”

“No! These are the right coordinates!” Thor exclaimed, impatiently pressing a series of buttons in a rather doltish manner, accidentally hitting the switch that set off the surge of fireworks above the vessel.

“Turn them off!” Loki snapped, damning both the Grandmaster for his love everything dramatic, and his brother for being an absolute moron who thought pressing everything in sight was the solution to getting the ship to _go._

They managed to eventually shut off the light display, and quickly found the source of the problem that elucidated the predicament of why their ship did not want to advance.

_Outer fuel reserve damaged. Fuel tank empty._

Those were the words exhibited on the monitor, and both men stared at it in abject horror.

 _“...What?”_ Loki hissed, teeth grinding together, his jaw beginning to ache from how tightly he had clenched it.

“I- I don’t-” Thor’s mouth hung open for a few seconds longer, “Ah- the, ah… that must’ve happened when the asteroid hit us…”

They were stranded. Stranded in the middle of space, drifting aimlessly through an ocean of debris with a limited supply of food and water, while Thanos was likely on his way to Earth right that second to swipe the Mind stone from Vision.

“Thor”, Loki began, with surprising aplomb, “If we run out of provisions and die on this vessel, there’s something I need you to know.”

“Is it that you love me, brother?”

“No, it’s that I hate you. More than you could ever know.”

“Ah…” Thor sighed, running a hand over his face before tapping the monitor to investigate where they stood on the basis of communication capability, “Well, we could broadcast a distress signal and hope that somebody nearby might answer it-”

Loki, slumped back in the co-pilot chair with his arms crossed over his chest, waved his hand in perfunctory motion as if to say _‘go ahead and try’_ because it wasn’t as though there was anything else they could try.

Before Thor could even lay a finger on the broadcast switch, the ship’s computer gave two short beeps.

“We’re… being hailed?” Thor murmured, a baffled expression on his face, and Loki shot up straight, eyes ahead as he searched for the source of the communications line. Appearing from around the edge of the planet debris was a ship, a little larger than their own, with a colour scheme of orange and grey.

“Answer it, Thor.”

Thor cleared his throat, accepting the call that came through, “Ah, hello? This is, ah, _Captain Thor,_ of… uh, the Commodore-” Loki pinched the bridge of his nose at the way Thor’s lip curled complacently as he introduced himself - he seemed _far_ too pleased with himself.

A voice erupted from the speaker system, _“Copy that, this is Captain Star-Lord of the Benatar, are you in need of any assistance?”_ The voice seemed friendly enough, but there was an underlying tone of sombre prudence - which made sense, if they knew that they were floating through the remnants of an obliterated planet.

“Assistance, yes- our ship is damaged. Ah… permission to come aboard?”

There was silence for a few moments and Loki shared a look with his brother, a cumulative expression of trepidation that this _Star-Lord_ would not agree to help them; but then their worries were abated.

_“...Permission granted.”_

* * *

 

Star-Lord, a man that turned out to be an absolute clown whose oafishness rivalled that of Thor’s, and his ragtag crew referred to themselves as the _Guardians of the Galaxy,_ which in and of itself had Loki rolling his eyes so hard that they might have fallen out of his head if he wasn’t too careful.

They had been responding to Xandar’s distress call, _a little too late,_ when they had come across the Commodore, visibly damaged and drifting suspiciously close to the meteoric remains of the eradicated planet.

Upon explaining the situation, Loki and Thor had learned that the green-skinned woman was named Gamora, and not only was she the daughter of Thanos, but she also hated him as much as they did.

“Thanos has the Power stone and he means to collect the other five”, Loki supplied to the ships occupants, apart from Star-Lord, who seemed to be in the middle of a pissing contest with Thor over who had more authority out of the two of them, “We know that the Mind stone is on Earth, and the Reality stone is on Knowhere. The locations of the others are unknown.”

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Loki knew where the Space stone was. He held it on his person at the current moment, but Thor did not know that, nor did he _need_ to know that.

“Thanos means to wipe out half of all sentient life in the universe”, Gamora spoke, crossing her arms as her mouth settled into an uneasy line, “If he possesses all six infinity stones, he can do it like that”, she punctuated her words with a snap of her fingers.

“He will not find them all”, Thor confidently remarked, suspending his childish competition with Quill for just a few moments, “The Space stone perished along with our home in the flames of Surtur.”

Loki pressed his lips together, “But that does not mean he cannot do inconceivable harm”, he would hate for Thor to think they were safe in that Thanos could not achieve his goal, especially when Loki was well aware the Mad Titan would ultimately come for him to recover the infinity stone, “We must remain vigilant, and do all we can to make certain he does not get his hands on any more.”

“You know”, Star-Lord interjected, a terribly smug touch to his tone, “I actually _held_ an infinity stone once”, the man placed his hands on his hips, emanating vulgar superiority, “Whaddya think of that?”

“Nobody likes a show-off”, the sinewy man known as Drax grumbled as he passed by Quill, effectively silencing him before he could interrupt the serious discussion with anymore of his boastful ramblings.

“How do you plan to defeat this bozo then?” the talking racoon spoke up as he perched in the pilot’s seat, and it was a question that Loki definitely did not have an answer to.

“I need a new weapon”, Thor said suddenly, crossing the length of the ship to inspect the attached pod, “Loki and I will travel to Nidavellir”, he looked to his brother, an assertive smile on his face, “Eitri will craft me a new hammer and with that, I can hone my strength and give that bastard what’s coming to him.”

Loki cocked his head, raising an eyebrow, “So that was your plan.”

“Nidavellir? I thought that was a place of legend!” Rocket exclaimed, jumping up, “You tellin’ me that’s a real place?”

“Of course”, Thor spoke, “You’re the captain, aren’t you? We will have to take your pod, I hope you understand.”

The raccoon puffed up, looking rather pleased, “Yeah! You know, I _am_ the captain, and I say you can take our pod on one condition… I’m comin’ with ya!”

Thor saw no problem with it, content to allow the talking raccoon to tag along with them; as Quill began to flounder on about how _he_ was the captain and he didn’t approve, Loki became somewhat distracted, stepping toward the viewing deck to look upon the mass wreckage that the destroyed planet left behind.

They had dawdled for far too long - every minute spent talking with these so-called _Guardians_ was a waste of time - Thanos could be closing in on Earth as they spoke, preparing to take what he thought was his, and to mow down anybody who stood in his path. Loki could not imagine that the Avengers would stand much of a chance against the Mad Titan - they would fall, one by one, and Earth would be completely vulnerable.

The thought of returning to Earth only to find it as a pile of floating rocks instilled a tense foreboding in his chest, kindling his nerves with consternation. Amelia would be dead, and Loki would not know whether she died a quick and painless death, or whether she suffered like his dreams foretold.

Lost to his thoughts, Loki did not immediately acknowledge the sensation of something touching his hand.

“You feel… a great fear”, said a soft voice from behind him, and Loki wrenched his hand away from the antennaed woman known as Mantis.

“What?” Loki snapped, eyes narrowed as the glow of her antennae faded.

“You are frightened that harm will come to those you love”, she continued to say, and Loki scoffed, noting that all eyes had turned to him, immediately summoning a dagger and pointing the sharp tip threateningly to Mantis’s neck.

 _“Do not touch me again”,_ he sneered, and within half a second, he had several blasters aimed at his face.

“If I were you, Grease, I’d put the knife down”, Quill warned, finger resting on the trigger of his blaster; Loki bristled at the insult. This man was, evidently, not as commendable as Stark with his nicknaming game, but before Loki could snap back in a far superior and witty style, Thor approached and forced Loki’s wrist down.

“Enough, Loki”, said Thor, “you may want to be a little more cordial to the people who rescued us.”

Loki shared a look of scornful derision with his brother, “Enough _delay,_ brother. Now, are we heading to Nidavellir or not?”

Thor regarded him with a patient look, likely picking up on the urgency in his eyes - mixed with what Mantis had revealed just a few moments prior, Thor was clearly savvy to what was causing Loki’s agitation.

Turning to Rocket, Thor spoke, “We leave now, Rabbit.”

* * *

 

Amelia sat alone upon the wicker bench in the garden that had been Loki’s gift to her. She missed him dearly, wishing she could attain an inkling as to how his and Thor’s mission was proceeding. The atmosphere surrounding Avengers Tower was not the same since the two Asgardians had left, leaving behind a sense of apprehension in all their minds - Tony and Bruce were more alert, never in a playful or joking mood as Amelia had come to expect from them, and they were quiet, silently stewing in their unrest over Thor’s cautionary words.

Amelia had barely spoken to the two remaining Avengers since Loki and Thor had taken off in their ship - she felt like a nuisance, as though her presence was distracting for Tony and Bruce as they attempted to establish a backup plan should the Asgardians fail in stopping Thanos before he reached Earth.

They always looked so busy whenever she passed them in the hallways or bumped into them in the lounge, and never said anything more than a swift greeting before leaving them to their devices.

For the first time since Loki had come into her life, Amelia felt lonely.

She hadn’t realised how incredibly talkative she had been - no doubt making up for the five years she had lived alone - until the one she shared most conversations with had left, or she had forced herself to remain silent in company. It was difficult, wanting so desperately to just have a friendly chat, but knowing that she couldn’t risk sidetracking the two remaining heroes while they discussed strategic moves.

The garden always offered Amelia some respite from her mind whenever she felt anxious, but today it seemed that no matter how hard she tried to relax and think positively, her thoughts only wanted to bring her down.

_I love you._

She had repeated Loki’s words over in her mind more than a thousand times by now, recalling the exact tone of his voice as he’d spoken - so soft and tender - and while it should have been something to soothe her, Loki’s declaration had done nothing but bring her distress.

Yes, Loki loved her. She knew he loved her - it was always so comprehensible in his actions - it was clear from the way he asked about her day and listened when she relayed all the pointless little details of everything that had happened to her. It was clear from the way he shared her company, content to sit with her in silence as he read, even when she inadvertently broke his concentration with her singing or humming. It was clear from his smile and the affection in his eyes; it was clear from the way he held her hand, embraced her softly, brushed his hand through her hair, or kissed her till she was breathless.

It was clear, and yet, he felt the need to state those three words.

It was uncharacteristic of him, and that was why it worried her.

It had sounded too much like a goodbye, as though Loki was under the impression that he would not return, and did not want to leave her without ever having confessed to Amelia, aloud, just how much he cherished her.

Reaching out, she caressed the red petals of the carnation bloom beside her, breathing in the sharp and spicy scent - like cinnamon - reminding herself of the nights she and Loki had spent curled up in that very spot, admiring the Manhattan skyline and the warmth of each other’s bodies.

She could not shake the feeling that Loki and Thor were barrelling headfirst into disaster.

Amelia hoped she was wrong.

* * *

 

_Beep, beep beep, beep._

Loki clenched his fists, trying to put a damper on the quickly growing irritation at hearing the incessant little noises emanating from Groot’s gaming device. _Why did the teenage tree have to come along anyway?_

It seemed Groot was either impervious to Loki’s menacing scowls or he simply just did not care that he was causing a disturbance along Loki’s taut nerves - one thing was for sure, Loki was mere minutes away from taking that damned handheld and crushing it in his hand.

“Do you think perhaps you could turn that thing off?” Loki enquired coolly, his expression none-too-friendly, though he tried a polite approach, hoping the kid would have enough consideration to do as requested.

Instead, Groot shot Loki a dirty look, eyes squinting with disdain as he muttered the words, “I am _Groot.”_

Loki bristled with anger at the vulgarity, further vexed by the sound of Thor snorting in amusement.

 _“Hey-_ hey, come on now, Groot. Mind ya language!” Rocket snapped from the piloting seat, but otherwise did nothing to amend the situation.

And then, to add insult to injury, Groot poked his tongue out at Loki before nudging the volume button higher, making Loki wish he had kicked up more of a protest when Rocket invited the tree along to join them.

Loki seethed silently, thinking about turning Groot into firewood, but put on a more composed outward appearance, acting as though he wasn’t so bothered; he would not allow himself to be tormented by an adolescent tree.

He had more pressing things on his mind; he was all too aware of the time ticking on, reminding him that Thanos had to be close to Earth by now, and if they did not reach their destination soon, it would be too late.

Thor must have sensed Loki’s disquiet, for he turned to Rocket and amicably enquired, “Rabbit, can this pod move any faster?”

“I’m going as fast as I can”, Rocket answered, though he was sympathetic about it, and Thor nodded his head, clearly weighed down with worry just as much as Loki was.

After several more minutes, Loki stood, slipping from his chair to linger towards the back of the pod - the vessel was not large enough to offer any privacy, but at least back here, the sharp, shrill noises of Groot’s game were not quite as loud. He closed his eyes and focused, sifting through all the possible outcomes of their endeavour - even if Thor did acquire a new hammer which bore all of his concentrated, electrical energy, it may still not be enough against the full force of six infinity stones.

Which was why Loki had to protect the Space stone at all cost, with everything he had, even if it killed him in the process.

Loki was sharp-witted. He could fool even the cleverest of people with his tricks - but Thanos in possession of several infinity stones could be unpredictable. It would not be so easy to deceive the Mad Titan, and Loki was well aware of that.

He was adamant in his initiative, his mind made up. If, when the time came, his illusions were to fail, he would remain dutifully unwavering - regardless of what torture Thanos put him through - until the end.

Amelia deserved to live her life, and if that meant sacrificing his own, then it was worth it.

Perhaps he would even be awarded the honour of greeting his mother in the afterlife.

“Loki”, Thor’s voice drifted through his thoughts, and Loki opened his eyes to find his brother hovering beside him, “We will triumph over Thanos”, he said, “have faith. We are stronger in conjunction.”

It almost seemed, to Loki, that Thor was paranoid of his younger brother betraying him, _for the thousandth time,_ and so took every available opportunity to plant the seed of cooperation in his mind - reminding Loki to stick by his side no matter what happened.

Loki observed his brother’s face, now a little more pleasant to look at after Rocket had generously offered Thor a brand new eye with which to see Thanos suffer when he delivered the final blow, and even though the colours of his irises were mismatched, it was still a more agreeable look than being comparable to their father’s visage.

Loki did not share Thor’s optimism.

Even _together,_ their mettle was not invincible under Thanos’s destructive power. Doubt hung heavy in Loki’s mind.

A bitter breeze of laughter escaped Loki’s mouth, before his face fell into a more dismal, cheerless expression.

“Thor”, Loki quietly spoke, enunciating the word with a tone of grim significance, “If anything happens to me when we face Thanos, promise me you will look after Amelia.”

Thor’s eyes darted between Loki’s, his expression hardened as he absorbed his brother’s words, before obstinately responding, “Nothing will happen to you.”

With that, Thor rejoined Rocket and Groot at the front of the pod.

* * *

 

Amelia sat with Pepper Potts, watching the news broadcast with unbridled alarm - it had been barely half an hour ago when Tony had received a call informing him of trouble in the middle of Manhattan. An eerie, ring-shaped ship had appeared in the sky, sparking moderate alarm at the unfamiliar sight of it, before prompting outright panic as it lowered and began causing damage.

Tony and Bruce had left in an instant, prepared to confront whoever was behind the so-called attack, and Amelia had been left with Pepper - the both of them silently fretting over what the sudden appearance of this strange ship meant.

Was this Thanos? Had Loki and Thor failed their mission to stop him in time?

Amelia did not want to believe it, but the presence of this threat could not mean anything good.

On the screen, there were vague and fleeting images as the person behind the camera struggled to capture the heat of the fight while narrowly avoiding danger themselves - Amelia saw Iron Man and the Hulk, joined by two men she had never seen before - one of which wore a majestic, red cloak and hovered above the ground - and she could only assume this was the fabled _Doctor Strange_ that Thor had spoken briefly about.

The foes they fought were _incredibly ugly._ In fact, one of them looked somewhat like Voldemort, with a slimy face and no visible nose to speak of; Amelia flinched as the creature seemed to get the jump on her friends, overwhelming Dr Strange and Iron Man while the Hulk was distracted with the other enemy.

Things seemed to brighten up when Spider-Man joined the fray out of nowhere, and Amelia clenched her fists hopefully, trusting that they would outnumber the creep - but it was unfortunately wishful thinking. Strange was seemingly knocked out, and the slimy, Voldemort-esque foe transported him swiftly to the ship - the last thing they saw was Iron Man soaring speedily through the air after the ring-shaped vessel and disappearing out of sight.

Amelia watched as Pepper ran her hands over her face, very easily understanding her restlessness - she knew nothing of Loki’s whereabouts, whether he and Thor were presently on their way back to Earth, or if they were even still alive. It shook her to the core to think Thanos had crushed them with ease and sent forth his minions to put his plan into fruition.

Pepper pulled out her phone and furiously dialled in the numbers, holding the phone up to her ear for several moments before her call was accepted, _“Tony-_ don’t you dare tell me you’re on that alien ship!”

It was clear from Pepper’s resulting expression of barely restrained alarm that Tony was _indeed_ on that ship.

They learned nothing more from Tony, as the call was quickly dropped, no doubt falling out of range as the ship continued to ascend through the atmosphere. Only hours later, after endlessly fretting, did they recieve any word about what was going on.

Bruce called, revealing that Vision had been found, and that he, along with Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, and several others, had travelled to the _previously undisclosed_ East African nation known as Wakanda, in order to figure out a way to safely remove the Mind stone from Vision’s head without destroying him in the process.

It sounded like a long shot to Amelia, but then again, Amelia was not a powerful superhero or a genius scientist capable of achieving highly improbable goals.

So she sat and waited - it was all she could do - beside Pepper, who shared a mutual fear of losing her significant other; while they did not speak much to each other, Amelia felt somewhat comforted by her presence, thankful that the woman chose to sit by her in their distressing situation.

 _Please come back, Loki,_ Amelia prayed to anybody that might be listening, _you told me you would come back. Please don’t let it be a lie._

* * *

 

It had not been a consoling sight when the pod had arrived at Nidavellir, only to find the forge cold and barren, littered with broken parts, and the rings surrounding the dying star were frozen in place.

Thanos had slaughtered the dwarves - or, at least, all but one. Eitri remained, mourning his fallen comrades, and he explained that he could not craft Thor a new weapon, not unless the rings were thawed and the star was reignited.

Again, Thor was enraged by the devastation Thanos had caused, his fingers sparking as his anger mounted.

Loki had been the one to calm him, laying a hand on his shoulder, “Keep a clear head, brother. I have an idea.”

Thor did as Loki instructed, clutching the edge of one of the rings with one hand and utilising the acceleration of the pod to force the rings into motion. Loki observed from within the forge, feeling a spark of victory when the gate opened up, revealing the light and warmth of the star as it pierced through the cold darkness.

The celebrations lasted mere seconds, as the gate quickly closed up once more.

 _“Shit”,_ Loki hissed under his breath, hands landing on his hips as he searched his brain for another plan.

“How long does the forge need to stay open?” Thor enquired when he returned to the platform with Rocket and Groot in tow.

“A few minutes, perhaps”, Eitri answered bleakly.

Loki sighed; they needed to find a way to prise the gate open and keep it that way for a number of minutes, but the pod would not survive being in close proximity with the star, the heat would destroy it - melt it, even. They could not use the same trick again.

Thor stared at him in his peripheral, and Loki regarded him with a curious glance at the look of firm intent in his brother’s eyes - he seemed to have a plan, surprisingly, and Loki let his expression grow inquisitive, prompting Thor to speak.

“I could hold it open”, Thor said.

 _“Absolutely not”,_ Loki snapped, “It’s suicide, brother! You are resilient, but not even you could withstand full exposure to a dying star for more than a few seconds, _let alone minutes._ It will fry you till you’re a charred corpse, don’t be stupid!” Thor smiled crookedly at the reprimand, but his decision had clearly been made; Loki attempted to dissuade Thor with a sturdy stare, but the stubborn oaf remained unmoved.

“It is our only option”, Thor responded.

“And once you're dead, what are we to do then?” Loki spat.

Thor looked self-assured, almost positive he could survive his task, “Have _faith_ in me, brother.”

There was nothing he could do to deter his mulish brother with his damned cocksure attitude; Loki paced back and forth by the forge as Thor rode the pod to the sealed gate and took his position, hands gripping the two levers to pull them together, poised to hold tight and take the full force of the star.

“The universe is doomed”, Loki mumbled under his breath for the second time since their journey began, and watched on with nervous unease as his brother prepared to undergo this self-destructive endeavour.

Thor seized the levers and pulled them inward. Loki held his breath as moments passed, and suddenly the light of the star shone forth, engulfing his brother entirely - but Thor did not crumble under what must’ve been the most intense searing pain imaginable. It had to have been worse than what Thanos put Loki through, and he looked to Eitri, who was peering into the bowl of Uru ingots, waiting for it to melt so that he might pour the metal into the cast.

The seconds passed slowly, and Loki could not imagine Thor’s agony, but still his brother held strong, grasping the levers with all his might. Loki clenched his fists so hard that his nails left indents in his palm; he could hear his brother’s shout, and with a fluster he turned back to the dwarf.

“How much longer?” he snapped.

“It is almost liquefied!” Eitri cried back.

Loki gazed back at his brother, “Come on, Thor…”

Only seconds were needed; perhaps he had been wrong to doubt the God of Thunder. Still, that thought did not set his nerves at bay as a split-second later, the gate slammed shut, and Loki saw his brother’s body drift motionlessly through the void of space towards the forging platform. He rushed forward, summoning a net of magic to catch Thor before he slammed into the ground, and set him down gently before dropping to his side.

“Thor! Brother, you fool, _answer me!”_

Thor’s eyes fluttered and his lip twitched, but he did not give any indication that he had heard Loki’s frantic words; Loki looked back to the forge, watching as Eitri broke the cast apart with a mallet, revealing the two heads of Stormbreaker.

 _“Is it done?”_ Loki called out, and Eitri darted around, flustered.

“The handle! I need to find the handle!” the dwarf exclaimed, before rushing off down the platform.

“Is he alright!?” Rocket cried, joining at Thor’s other side.

Loki observed his brother’s scorched body, his pink, singed skin, and the way Thor’s chest rose and fell in a way that was all too slight, and shook his head grimly.

“He needs the axe”, Loki breathed, and Eitri had yet to return; his brother was so close to death.

Just when Loki assumed the worst would happen, Groot screamed from behind them, and they turned in sync to find the teenage tree fusing his arm to the weapon, effectively creating a strong, sturdy handle, before severing his own arm, sacrificing it to complete the axe.

It was done, _it was created,_ and Loki forgave the annoying tree for his affinity with mind-warping video games.

“Thor! Up, you oaf”, Loki snapped, shaking his brother’s shoulders, “The axe has been crafted!”

Thor’s hand twitched, the weapon flew through the air, and at once they were all engulfed in a bright radiance as the God of Thunder's strength returned anew.

* * *

 

It had been roughly two hours since they’d received Bruce’s call, and Amelia was still not faring well; she had a bad feeling in her stomach that simply did not want to subside, and her hopes had continued to dwindle with nobody to assure her. Well, Pepper was with her, but the woman had not said much other than offering to make some coffee.

Pepper clearly had a much stronger will than Amelia; she kept a clear head and an impressive outward demeanour of confidence, unlike Amelia, who had fought herself back from the verge of tears several times already, and sat rigid on the couch, hugging her knees just so her body would not visibly shake.

“I’m sure he’s fine, you know”, Pepper finally said, breaking the deafening silence so abruptly that Amelia almost jumped.

“Mm…? You mean Tony?” Amelia murmured, rubbing her eyes to clear the blurriness from them.

“Loki”, Pepper clarified, “I know how much you care about him, and though I’ve never really shared more than one word with him, I know for a fact that he’s quite irrepressible and can withstand even the most savage assault.”

Amelia blinked, biting her lip gently.

“He took the full might of the Hulk, after all”, Pepper continued, offering Amelia a small smile, and Amelia realised the woman was trying her utmost to provide repose.

Amelia nodded in acknowledgement, returning the smile crookedly, “Thanks”, she whispered, “-and, um, I’m sure Tony’s fine too. He’s, uh, like, really smart, and strategic… and he always thinks of something.” She knew her attempt at consoling Pepper was nowhere near as articulate as the other woman’s, but she hoped it would suffice and put Pepper more at ease.

Silence fell once more, and after an extended period of time that felt like hours but was, in actual fact, no longer than twelve minutes, Pepper suddenly sprung to her feet.

“That’s it, I’m done with waiting”, Pepper declared, before turning on her heel and heading towards the door.

“W-where are you going?” Amelia stuttered, blinking rapidly as she scrambled to her feet and staggered after her, not wishing to be alone for even a few seconds.

“I’m going to Wakanda, are you coming?” Pepper spoke, matter-of-factly, and Amelia’s mouth fell open.

“T-to Wakanda? Where the Mind stone is? Where all the fighting is probably happening?” Amelia questioned, wondering if Pepper had snapped.

“Yes”, the woman stated, walking purposefully towards the elevator that would take her to the operational helicopter pad.

Amelia stood, mouth agape, knowing it was an absolutely _terrible_ idea to dive head first into the storm, but at the same time, all the waiting around and worrying was just _not_ good for her heart.

“Wait for me!” Amelia cried, chasing after her.

* * *

 

_“The Tesseract, or your brother’s head.”_

It had taken mere moments for Loki and Thor to arrive with Rocket and Groot in the heat of a ferocious battle between allies and the Outriders. Stormbreaker, along with incredible power, also possessed the ability to summon the Bifrost at will, transporting them in a burst of prismatic colours to the very fields of Wakanda - Thanos’s current position.

The jump to conflict was instantaneous; they had charged across the battlefield, avoiding the bodies of fallen men, women and Outriders, assisting those who continued to fight. In the near distance, Thanos’s ship had landed, and Loki had needed only to share a look of mutual resolve with his brother before they both lurched into a sprint, tearing down every enemy in their path with bolts of lightning and precise slashes with sharp blades.

As the two brothers bounded towards the Mad Titan, Loki saw Avengers and Guardians alike, as well as those he had fought against in the Chitauri invasion six years prior, and yet now he fought alongside them for the fate of the universe.

Thanos’s ship was large, with its metallic legs protruding from the body of the ship and digging deep into the earth below, and as they had closed in on it, the sun was blotted out from the sky, casting a great shadow over the warzone. Onwards, they ran, spotting their ultimate foe below the sunless expanse of his ship.

When they were close, Thor had hurtled into action, streaks of white lightning fizzing around his body, before following the point of his axe to take out the mindless beasts surrounding Thanos, and Loki had followed swiftly, blasting the creatures with magical projectiles, until Thanos stood alone before them.

The Mad Titan had remained passive as he watched his waves of Outriders fall at their hands, supremely unconcerned, even smirking as blood was spilt and the beasts were fried, and then he had laughed as Thor and Loki faced him, taunting them, inciting them.

They had not counted on Thanos having already collected five of the six infinity stones.

Loki stood before Thanos now, his legs entwined with snaking roots - _likely owing to the capabilities of the Reality stone_ \- which left him effectively fixed to the spot, unable to sever them with his magically-enhanced blades, and he _had_ tried; Thor hung from the vicious grip Thanos had on his head, barely conscious, his body beaten and his lungs grating for breath as the Mad Titan stared Loki down, _waiting._

Fists clenched tightly at his sides, Loki stood, outwardly composed, as his thoughts rushed through his head at a million miles per hour - _he needed a plan._ He racked his brain, imagining and surmising all the outcomes of whatever spell he chose to cast or whatever trick he endeavoured to play, and yet all these ideas culminated in one undesirable consequence - his brother’s skull being crushed in Thanos’s huge palm.

Loki had prepared all of his tricks and strategies under the assumption that his own life would be the one in immediate peril; he had foolishly not accounted for the possibility that Thanos would use Thor to get to him - _to get what he wanted._

_“I assume you have a preference?”_

Loki bristled at the amusement in Thanos’s voice. He needed more time to develop a plan - something that would ensure their survival and that Thanos would never get his hands on the final stone - but the Mad Titan was growing visibly impatient.

_He needed more time!_

“Oh, I do”, Loki responded, “kill away!” He held his breath once the words left his mouth, knowing he had barely seconds to devise an idea, and fought to stay cool-headed when he saw Thor’s eyes blink open, disbelief and anguish clear on his face. It stabbed at Loki’s heart, but he prayed that he would later have the chance to explain to Thor his intent to deceive Thanos.

Thanos had clearly not expected Loki’s answer, and arched an eyebrow before his lips curled maliciously, and he held the Power stone to Thor’s temple, letting the potent, purple energy creep into Thor’s brain.

Thor’s screams were instantaneous, and Loki felt his eyes grow wet. He watched his brother endure agonising torture for precisely fifteen seconds before relenting.

 _“Alright, stop!”_ Loki cried, looking upon Thanos with unimaginable hatred.

Thor coughed and sputtered, blood flying from his mouth in droplets as Thanos ceased the abuse, “We don’t have the Tesseract… it was destroyed on Asgard!” The God of Thunder’s words were slurred and blended with residual pain.

At that moment, Loki’s eyes met his brother’s and he could tell that Thor knew, from just the way his brother held his gaze, that he was completely wrong.

Loki raised his hand, pulling the Tesseract from its safe, dimensional pocket, offering it up in exchange for Thor’s safety.

Thor’s mouth fell open, “All this time… _why?”_

Loki steeled himself, lips pressed tightly together, and upon looking past Thor’s head, he saw a fast-moving blur of green swiftly approaching, and smiled faintly.

“I assure you, brother, the sun _will_ shine on us again.”

Thor’s eyes twitched, his gaze begging Loki not to hand over the final infinity stone.

Thanos laughed, “Your optimism is misplaced, Asgardian”, he remarked, reaching forth for the glowing cube in Loki’s palm.

“Well for one thing”, Loki boldly began, head slightly cocked, “I’m _not_ Asgardian. And for another, _we have a Hulk.”_

Everything happened too quickly. The Hulk leapt at Thanos, catching the Mad Titan off-guard and sending him tumbling to the ground, launching promptly into a frenzied assault. The roots that bound Loki’s legs decayed as Thanos’s concentration of the Reality stone’s power was shattered, and he dived for his brother, catching Thor before he hit the ground.

The Tesseract hit the ground in the commotion, springing out of reach, and now that Loki had Thor out of immediate jeopardy, his mind was a little clearer and swift to reinvent his initial scheme.

While the Hulk had Thanos distracted, Loki stepped away from his battered brother to mentally sift through the spells in his arsenal and, upon finding the one he needed, cast it subtly upon himself - a charm that would slow his breath and pulse dramatically, awarding him the outward illusion of a corpse to one not examining him so attentively; he set a delay of several minutes, fortified himself, and ventured to do exactly what he did best - _lie._

Stepping back into the skirmish, Loki witnessed Thanos punch the Hulk into unconsciousness, tossing him away like he weighed nothing, and Thor mustered his remaining strength to deliver one final blow that barely phased the Mad Titan; Thanos once again called upon the Reality stone, ensnaring Thor with unyielding roots, forcing him in place on his knees - only then did Thanos face Loki once again, his expression that of ultimate displeasure, but Loki adorned himself with a charismatic smile, the picture of bubbling overconfidence.

It was all part of his plan. He aimed to rile Thanos to the point that the titan would strike him down dead, and when he was assured nobody was paying attention to his _‘corpse’,_ he would take the form of Gamora, the titan’s beloved daughter, and use the illusion to baffle and delay Thanos just long enough for Thor to retrieve his bearings - _and his axe, which was presently embedded in one of the legs of Thanos’s ship -_ to land the conclusive blow.

“I must say, Thanos, I do admire your intentions”, Loki spoke, stepping closer with reckless and daring intent, “To rid the universe of half its inhabitants for the sake of those left alive, and at random! How considerate of you not to show favouritism.”

Thanos’s eyes narrowed, amusement plain on his large, purple face, and it was clear the titan did not buy Loki’s sudden turn of attitude in the slightest - it was no matter, he wasn’t _supposed_ to be fooled by that.

“Admittedly, I have very recently come to see things from your perspective and I would be honoured if you would allow me to join you in your objective to bring _peace_ and _joy_ to the cosmos”, Loki continued on, taking slow, purposeful steps, measured, _calculated,_ he lay a hand over his heart, the other resting innocently at his side.

“I, Loki, Prince of Asgard… Odinson”, his eyes flickered to Thor, who watched on with uncertainty of what to make from his brother’s display, “-the _rightful King_ of Jotunheim, God of Mischief, do hereby pledge to you… _my undying fidelity.”_ Loki bowed his head minimally, waiting several beats, before he conjured a blade in his left hand, and lunged.

The dagger was never meant to meet its mark, and it didn’t. With a glimmer of red from the Reality stone affixed in the gauntlet, the blade transformed into a flower - a white chrysanthemum - and Loki froze in place, allowing a misleading expression of fear to come over his face as Thanos chuckled at the ‘failed assassination attempt’.

Loki wondered briefly how he would meet his _supposed_ end at the hands of the titan - there were many creative ways Thanos could choose to kill him, and many of which that could potentially be quite _painful_ indeed, but there was a visible sign of impatience in on the titan’s face that led Loki to believe it would be over relatively quickly; Thanos was truly eager to get his hands on that final stone and accomplish his goal.

It would not happen. It _couldn’t_ happen. Not when Loki had something to live for.

He pondered no further when Thanos seized him by the neck in a dense, uncompromising hold, and lifted him off the ground, his legs dangling helplessly as the titan’s purple fingers _squeezed_ the life out of him.

 _“No-”_ Thor tried to protest, but was quickly silenced under the makeshift muzzle of his restraints.

 _This is rather tolerable,_ Loki thought, as he grappled in Thanos’s hold. It wouldn’t be too much of a bother to call upon his magic and reconstruct his windpipe before putting the rest of his plan into action - there were worser, messier ways he could have gone.

 _“You… w-will never be… a… god”,_ Loki choked out as a final _‘fuck you’_ to the Mad Titan, whose eyes sparked with controlled rage, and he felt his trachea begin to give under the inexorable pressure.

Then Thanos smirked, and held the gauntlet to Loki’s forehead.

The final thing Loki saw was a flicker of gleaming yellow, and then his awareness drained, and all that was left was darkness.

Loki’s second to last thought was that the rest of his plan _might_ not go as he had hoped it would, and his very final thought was of Amelia.

* * *

Amelia stared down at the remnants of the warzone as Pepper brought the helicopter down to land; what was presumably a once thriving, green field was now the image of lifeless chaos, the expanse of the pasture was cluttered with bodies - _some human, some not_ \- and the earth was displaced, uneven and ripped up, littered with shallow gorges and the explosive remains of wrecked, blazing ship.

Her heart hammered in her chest, climbing up her throat in horror at the devastating sight - she had never seen so much death in once place, not even in the vestiges of the Chitauri invasion many years ago, and it caused her chest to seize up, and her hands to shake, and her stomach to churn and make her retch.

When they landed, Pepper was off in an instant, searching frantically for Tony, leaving Amelia to stagger around like a headless chicken, on the hunt for Loki or Thor - because if she found one, she would surely find the other.

It was difficult navigating across the damaged plains with corpses strewn about the path, but she made her way to where she could see an assemblage of people is a variety of bright colours. She caught sight of Tony stepping out of his Iron Man suit so that Pepper could crush him in her arms, she saw Bruce lying on the ground, awake but exhausted, she saw so many she recognised - Spider-Man, Steve Rogers, Black Widow, that Doctor Strange fellow, and several others that she had never seen before - a _talking raccoon, a sentient tree,_ a green-skinned woman hugging it out with a blue, cybernetic woman, a woman with antennae, a big, grey dude with bulging muscles, and a guy who just looked rather ordinary in a red, leather coat.

When she saw Thor, slumped down in a sitting position, leaning most of his weight against a pile of ship debris with an axe clutched loosely in his hand, she felt her heart judder, and reeled towards him with hasty steps.

“Thor! Where’s Loki?” Amelia exclaimed as she reached him, placing a hand on his arm _because he really didn’t look too well,_ and she noticed with a start that Thor now had _two_ eyes instead of one.

Thor seemed vaguely alarmed by her presence, eyes widening as he looked her over, “What are you doing here, Amelia?”

She ignored his question, repeating her initial enquiry as to her lover’s whereabouts, _“Where is Loki!?”_ she demanded, her tone wild and panicked.

Thor said nothing, mouth hanging open, but his gaze filled with pain and regret as his eyes flickered to the largest mass of the ship’s wreckage, and suddenly Amelia couldn’t breathe.

 _“Th-Thor”,_ she forced out, eyes undeniably filling with tears, _“Please, t-tell me he’s not…”_

Thor’s lips wobbled for a moment, “We have not yet… recovered his body…”

Amelia thought she might’ve heard something snap inside her, and it may very well have been her heart fracturing, splintering into many pieces, at the very particular way Thor had phrased his sorrowful response. _Recovered his body. Body. Implying that Thor believed him to be dead._

Shaking her head, Amelia looked to the fiery remains of the large ship, and in an impulsive move, she sprung off towards it, ignoring Thor’s shout for her to _‘stop! Amelia, wait! It’s dangerous!’_ and instead increasing her floundering pace, determined to search through every inch of the burning debris if she so had to. She would find Loki, and she would find him alive.

As she navigated through the detritus, she cried out for her lover above the crackling sounds of the fire, _“Loki! LOKI!”_ and listened hard through the echoes of her screams for any sound, any sign of life that might indicate Loki was somewhere amongst the rubble.

She screamed her throat raw, searching arduously for a hint of green and black, maybe even a sliver of gold, but her efforts returned nothing, and just when she was on the cusp of losing her mind, giving in and accepting Thor’s implications, she dropped suddenly, tripping down the edge of a shallow chasm. She slid down the rocky slope, her hands and arms becoming bloody as she tried to grip at the sharp rocks and jagged metals as she fell, before she hit a narrow stretch of smooth land, crying weakly as she curled in on herself.

Amelia wasn’t sure how long she laid there, shaking in miserable distress, but the ground, albeit flat, was not comfortable. Although her muscles protested, she pushed herself up onto her hands and knees, wincing as the raw, bleeding skin of her palms objected to her movements, and raised her head.

Before her lay a flower. A white chrysanthemum with lively petals and a bright green stem, as if freshly picked. Amelia cocked her head, confusion creeping through her distraught manner, because chrysanthemums were not at all native to Africa - so why was there a seemingly wild one right there?

Her gaze darted up, beyond the flower, and the first thing her eyes spotted was a reaching hand several metres away, connected to a still, unmoving body that was partially trapped under a slightly curved slab of metal.

_Loki._

Amelia jumped to her feet, forgetting the pain in her limbs, and toppled down to her knees beside her lover.

“Loki! _Loki!_ Oh, God, darling, please- _please wake up!”_ she cried, hands shaking as they hovered above him, afraid to touch him at first.

He was badly injured, pinned down by the smooth edge of the hunk of weighted metal, his eyes were closed and his lips were parted; Amelia concerned herself with finding the pulse point in his neck to ensure he was still alive, but she held her fingers to his neck and waited, _and waited… and waited…_ and felt nothing.

“No”, Amelia wept, face wet with fresh tears as she shook her head, “No, no, NO-” she wailed in despair, taking in his hand her own, leaning over him to gently thread her fingers through his hair.

She saw the ugly, dark purple marks visible just below his collar, scanning his pale face to take in the many cuts and bruises that marred his skin, and hoped, with painful wrath, that whoever did this to her lover had suffered a painful, _drawn-out death._

 _“Please… please”,_ she whispered, tasting the salt of her tears as she spoke, watching as they flecked down upon Loki’s face, _“Please don’t leave me… please.”_

A light puff of air tickled her cheek, and she heard the unmistakable sound of a rasping breath.

Sitting up at breakneck speed, Amelia cupped Loki’s face, “Loki? Loki, wake up- _Loki?”_ she was sure she had heard him exhale, and she rushed again to take his pulse.

Amelia waited, fingers pressed to his neck, and put her ear to his mouth, her own heart pounding in her chest, until finally, she felt a pulse - just one, but _strong_ \- and another soft, gasping breath.

He was alive. _He was alive._

_“THOR!”_

Amelia screamed for the God of Thunder for several long minutes, willing the man to hear her cries, before she heard the sound of rapid footsteps - _more than one person?_ \- and called out again.

Within seconds, two heads appeared over the edge of the shallow gorge she had fallen into; it wasn’t Thor, it was two unfamiliar faces, the woman with green skin and hair that blended from brown to pink, and the human-looking man in the red, leather coat.

“Help me, please! He’s alive, he needs help!” Amelia called out, and the two of them skidded down the slope into the ravine with far more grace than she had done, and came to her aid.

“He’s trapped- please, help me-” Amelia wheezed, knowing there was no conceivable way she could lift the large, metal panel by herself.

“Whoa, whoa, you sit tight, little lady. Star-Lord and Gamora at your service”, the man, Star-Lord, exclaimed assertively, and moved immediately with Gamora to lift the heavy chunk of metal from where it dug against Loki’s ribs.

Amelia attempted to drag him out from under the wreckage, but Loki was ridiculously heavier than he looked, and it took Gamora’s help to lay him down, out of harm’s way.

“Loki”, Amelia whispered, her trembling fingers brushing his cheek.

Star-Lord grimaced, “Grease looks more than enough banged up”, he mumbled, “You sure he’s alive?”

 _“Yes”,_ Amelia sputtered, her face angry and impatient - she didn’t mean to snap at the people who had helped save her lover, but her fears and worries controlled her, “He _is_ alive! His pulse is slow, but it’s there. We need to get him help, _please!”_

Gamora’s face softened at the pitiful sight Amelia must have made, “We will help him, just relax”, she tried to comfort.

“Maybe I can carry him”, Star-Lord suggested, and when he heaved Loki up over his shoulder, he winced at the strain, “Holy _shit,_ this is like carrying a tonne of bricks…” But summoned enough strength to haul him up regardless.

Amelia staggered behind as they carried him, feeling the need to whisper the occasional, _‘please be careful’,_ when his head jogged a little too harshly.

Thor found them, swaying slightly on the spot with how drained and exhausted he was, but his eyes lit up with hope when he learned Loki was still alive.

_They would find him help. He would be alright._

He would be okay.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I decided I preferred the idea of shorter chapters and more consistent updates, just like with Lilies Say Sorry! It's easier and less stressful for me this way :D

The first thing Loki felt when he stirred from his slumber was the streak of warmth across his face - an unmistakable ray of sunlight dancing across his cheek, a gentle and comforting sensation; he took a deep breath, sucking sweet air into his precious lungs, and noted that there was a nostalgic scent about the room, something homely, like the smell of old books.

Loki felt content to lie quietly for a while longer, revelling in the peacefulness of his surroundings and the lack of demand or hurry to get up; gradually, he became aware of the softness beneath him, subconsciously stroking his fingers through the material he lay upon, thinking idly that it seemed somewhat similar to the pelt of a bear.

Opening his eyes, Loki was greeted with an impossible sight.

He rested, reclined upon the bed in his old room within Asgard’s palace, surrounded by all of his belongings and oddities that he knew had perished in the flames of Surtur along with the rest of his home. But here he was, and here was everything he had owned, tidy and neat as the last time he had left it.

Loki pushed himself up, sitting on the edge of his bed which was adorned with the softest hide of a slain beast - killed so that he may have slept cosily - and he noticed that he was dressed in lavish linens, a green tunic with a golden trim, and brown leather breeches. He slipped his feet into the slippers by his bedside and stood, eyes drawn immediately to the curtained aperture before him.

He stepped towards the window where a beam of light shone through the parting, and pulled back the drapes to reveal a scene that filled him with wistfulness; Loki took in the view of Asgard, his beloved home, shining with a radiance that brought him bright memories of growing up alongside his brother - back when the world was lighter and he was not burdened with the pain of loss.

In the distance, he saw the rainbow bridge leading to the Bifrost, and the city below - he could not make out much from his position, but he imagined it to be bustling with resplendence and liveliness.

Loki turned his gaze from the rich, golden buildings and scanned his room; the view evoked a powerful feeling of merriment within him, but he stalled himself, ignoring the willingness to accept his surroundings in favour of searching his mind for an answer as to why he was there - his recollection was fuzzy, confusion buzzing around the edges of his memories, and he found that he could not solidly remember the last thing that had happened to him.

What Loki _did_ remember was a sense of urgency, something so incredibly important that it seemed ridiculous that he had allowed it to slip his mind; it panicked him, and he wondered vaguely if somebody had manipulated his mind, putting a mental block around his memories, but who would be powerful enough to do so? Loki was not one to be caught unawares.

Strange, though, that he remembered enough to know that the room he stood in should have been nothing but ash, drifting through space, but if he attempted to think of anything more recent, his efforts returned nothing of value.

_Perhaps he would find a clue in his environment._

Loki took a short walk around his room, enjoying the tingle of sunlight on his skin, and went immediately to his bookcase. The collection of books before him were amongst some of his favourite texts growing up, and Loki caressed the bindings, scanning the titles of various spellbooks and history volumes that he remembered reading over and over as a child.

He pulled one from its place, finding it slightly grimy, and blew away the dust before opening it to a random page - it was a publication that detailed the many advantages of illusionary magic, and Loki faintly smiled, casting his mind back to the days he spent studying the tome by candlelight many hours after the sun had set.

Loki dipped his head to breathe in the musty odour of the old pages and the leather-bound spine, sighing at the reminiscent thoughts it provoked, before placing it methodically back on the shelf.

Beside him on a small table was a golden candlestick, and Loki thoughtfully rubbed his fingers over the flawlessly shiny metal, finding it warm to the touch, having heated in the lustre of the sun; by its side, there sat a corked bottle filled with red wine, and Loki distantly discerned that his throat was parched. Water would have been preferable, but since the wine was the only drinkable liquid in sight, Loki happily pulled the cork out and took a swig, delighting in the vivid, fruity taste that danced over his taste buds. _Only the finest Asgardian wine._

Licking his lips, he savoured the flavour, placing the the bottle back down atop the table - as tempting as it sounded to drink the whole lot and grant himself the glee of tipsiness, he had more pressing matters to attend to, like uncovering the mystery of why Asgard had been seemingly restored, and why he was there.

He turned around, and across the room, he spied his full-body mirror beside the dresser, and stepped closer, observing his reflection closely. He looked fine, green eyes clear and lucid, his hair straightened and orderly, his pale complexion housing a healthy glow around his cheeks, but as his gaze travelled lower - across his jaw, over his chin, down his neck - he saw something unusual.

Creeping above the rim of his collar, he saw odd marks, and pulled back the material of his tunic to reveal dark bruises of a garish, purple shade.

The recollection hit him all at once, and the memory of having the life choked out of him assaulted his mind, prompting him to draw in a swift gasp to confirm to himself that he _could_ still breathe fine; gently rubbing his fingertips over the contusions around his throat, Loki thought hard about what might have occurred following his confrontation with Thanos.

What _happened_ exactly? He could easily replay the events in his mind’s eye as the Mad Titan squeezed the air from his lungs - he very clearly saw the pain on his brother’s face as Thor was unable to prevent Thanos from carrying out his onslaught, and he remembered the dark amusement in the titan’s eyes as he slowly strangled Loki with sick pleasure - but after that, there was nothing.

Had Thanos succeeded in taking his life?

Loki was struck with a sudden thought - if he _had_ died, did that mean he had come to Valhalla?

He gave his room one more questioning perusal and then left, exiting out into the corridors that he found to be strangely bare - there was not a guard or a maid in sight, as was customary the last time he walked the hallways of the palace - and he navigated the passages in silence until he reached the royal dining hall.

There, he was granted a vision that sent waves of pleasant tingles throughout his body; Loki smiled as he drew his eyes up over the large, long table that was generously piled with many sorts of mouth-watering dishes and platters, goblets filled with wine and mead, bowls of fruits and desserts that he yearned to sample - and at the end of the table, he saw his mother engaging cheerfully in conversation with his father and his brother.

Frigga was as beautiful as Loki had last seen her, with her fair hair tied up and plaited, a few wavy curls framing her elegant face, and she was dressed in an exquisite, yellow gown - graceful and sophisticated as the Queen of Asgard should be. Loki felt his chest grow tight with emotion as he watched his mother laugh and smile.

Loki stared in wonderment, wondering if he truly had arrived in Valhalla - but then his eyebrows furrowed in dismay, because _Thor_ was there, and Thor was not supposed to be dead.

A flutter of anxiousness pierced through him. Had Thanos _won?_ Had the Mad Titan achieved his goal and eradicated half of the universe?

If so, what had become of Amelia? Was she dead too?

Loki wasn’t sure what concept ailed him more - the thought that Thanos had killed Amelia and she had not been granted passage to Valhalla to return to his side, or the thought that Amelia had been one of the so-called _lucky_ ones, and fallen among the fifty percent of lives that were spared - _alone, devastated, suffering greatly from loss._

The sound of his brother laughing brought him back to the scene before him, and Loki realised his family had not yet become aware of his presence; he took a silent breath and stepped forward, preparing to greet them, but his eyes remained first and foremost on his mother - his mother, who he had missed dearly, and loved so very much.

As he approached, however, they raised their heads, and Loki was met with abhorrent looks from his mother and father; the warmth that had previously settled in his stomach drained away in an instant to be replaced with apprehensive confusion.

“Mother?” Loki spoke gently, wondering what he had done wrong to deserve such a look - of course, he thought with self-loathing, there were many things he had done wrong in his life, many things that merited much more than just a detestable look - but his mother had never before stared at him with such resentment, as if he were nothing more than a lowly piece of dirt.

The worst he ever saw from his mother was a look of sad disappointment, but now she watched him with contempt.

“What is _he_ doing here?” Frigga asked, her voice scathing and cold as if she was referring to a stranger - _but no, even Frigga treated strangers with base kindness and respect, Loki was even lesser still_ \- and her words cut into him like a well-sharpened blade. He almost recoiled at her disgusted tone, “Who let him in here?”

Loki’s mouth fell open in stunned shock, the power behind his mother’s wounding utterance having paralysed him like a jarring blow to the face, and he had to push himself to keep from shrinking back in woeful bewilderment.

“M-mother”, Loki stammered, his voice regrettably small, “It’s me. Loki.”

Odin grumbled under his breath something about the sentries not doing their jobs, and by the time Frigga had yelled out, _“Guards!_ Somebody take him _out_ of here!” Loki had already drawn back a few steps, flinching with every cruel word.

Thor rose suddenly from the table, placing a soothing hand on the arm of his agitated mother, “It is alright, mother, I will deal with him”, he assured her, and stepped away from the banquet table to proceed towards Loki, who stood cautiously in place, eyes watering and lips pressed thin and tightly together.

Too lost in his thoughts, pondering why his mother regarded him with so much loathing, Loki did not acknowledge Thor until the man had a guiding hand on his shoulder and was attempting to steer him from the room.

“Come, brother”, Thor told him, not unkindly, and the only reason Loki allowed himself to be led away was because Thor was the only one who spoken to him without venom in his tone; Loki took rigid steps as he followed his brother from the hall and into the corridors once more, pushing from his mind the feeling of his parents’ begrudging gaze burning into the back of his head as he went.

Swallowing hard, Loki blinked away the moisture in his eyes and tried hard to steel his composure. “Brother?” he asked, ashamed of the way his voice quivered, “What is this? What happened? Where are we?”

“One question at a time, brother”, Thor responded, and there was something sympathetic about his tone, as they walked the halls of the home they grew up in. Loki didn’t pay much attention to where Thor was subtly escorting him - he was far too desperate for answers as to what he had just experienced.

Loki was quiet for a moment, before softly enquiring, “Why do they hate me?”

Thor sighed, licked his lips, and then replied, “ _Hate_ is a strong word, brother… they don’t _hate_ you, they just-”

“Despise me?” Loki interjected, his expression pained and bitter; was it fated that even in death, even in Valhalla, Loki would be denied the love of his parents? Forever destined to rot in the darkness while his golden sibling bathed in sunlight. He felt betrayed by his brother, unable to help but feel as though Thor had forsaken him, even with all Loki had done in his last moments. “D-didn’t you tell them of my sacrifice? Weren’t they watching?”

Thor gave his brother a pitying look, one that Loki was beginning to think was not at all genuine - the God of Thunder felt no real sorrows while watching his younger sibling’s misfortunes unfold, and it brought angry tears to Loki’s eyes.

“You handed Thanos the Tesseract, brother”, Thor told him, “You willingly gave up the final infinity stone - the only thing he needed to achieve his ruinous goal-”

 _“I did it to save you!”_ Loki cried, “I had to- to _do_ something, he was going to kill you- I… wasn’t it enough?” His tears dribbled feebly down his cheeks as he was unable to quell his dejection.

“Now, Loki”, Thor began, a brutish dismissiveness underlying his words, “You’ve never really been the most benevolent of people, have you? Is it really a surprise that one attempt to be virtuous does not make up for a lifetime of sins, especially in mother’s eyes?”

Loki’s lip trembled as he absorbed his brother’s rhetorical question, “But… mother-”

“All the lies… all the tricks… all the betrayals”, Thor shook his head in reprimand, prompting Loki with a slightly more forceful nudge to speed him up when he slowed in step.

Biting his lip, Loki sniffled, digging his fingernails into the palm of his right hand, “I… I don’t understand, brother. What _happened?_ Did Thanos win?” This interaction with Thor had not elucidated anything - it had worked only to bring him misery and self-doubt.

Thor cocked his eyebrow, and air of complacency about his face, “Oh no, of course not. I killed him, no thanks to you.”

Loki was afflicted with an unpleasant bristling sensation that crawled down his back; he could not muster the wrath or the will to counter his brother’s disparaging, offhand remark with a retort of his own - only one question hovered in the forefront of his mind, and he was eager for an answer.

“Thor. Is Amelia alright?”

Loki carefully watched his brother’s face as Thor raised an eyebrow, a slight curl of amusement reaching his lip, “Oh, I don’t know, brother”, his timbre was infuriatingly jesting, “...has she ever _really_ been alright?”

There was something about the beguiling chuckle in Thor’s voice that brought Loki a dark feeling of dread - like a hand encroaching around his neck, tickling the hair on his nape - and he regarded his brother with a cautionary glare, as if wordlessly telling him to be _very careful_ with his next words.

“What do you mean?” Loki asked with a contemptible frown.

“What I _mean”,_ Thor continued, “Is that Amelia has always struggled with moving on, forever torn up over the fate of her brother, and- _oh,_ that was all _your_ fault though, wasn’t it?” The God of Thunder smiled, white teeth shining as he did so, “Perhaps she’s just fine, then. Glad to be rid of you, I imagine.”

Again, heavily discomfited by Thor’s callous, unapologetic words, Loki could only numbly wonder _why_ his brother was acting so damned _cruel_ towards him. They had come to a stop, Loki finally realised, noting that he was once again stood at the door of his bedroom, and swallowed the lump in his throat, clenching his jaw - this was all far too surreal. The way Thor treated him was baffling, and he looked briefly down to his boots, trying to make sense of his predicament.

“Thor… I can’t remember what happened… did Thanos kill me?” Loki whispered, not truly expecting anything from his brother other than a savage, abusive comment, “This… this can’t be it. This can’t be Valhalla.”

A hand settled compassionately on the back of his neck, and Loki looked up to Thor questioningly as his brother offered what seemed to be the first benevolent contact he’d received since waking up in this seemingly _false copy_ of Asgard.

Thor tilted his head down, smiling mirthlessly, “Of course this isn’t Valhalla, brother-”, he pat Loki’s neck, a gesture that was always meant in reassurance or to subdue and pacify, but then the hand on his neck tightened.

“-this is Hel.”

Before Loki could react, Thor had shoved him back into the bedroom, sending him tumbling none-too-lightly to the floor, and slammed the door shut behind him, locking it tightly.

Loki scrambled to his feet, swinging around to pound his fists against the bolted exit, _“Thor!”_ he cried, hearing the echo of his rage throughout the empty hallways of the Asgardian palace, _“Come back, you witless bastard! Let me out!”_ He drew back to coax the lock open with magic, but the seal seemed impervious to his spells, refusing to open under his duress.

He let out an anguished cry, kicking the door - which still did not budge - before sliding down against the wall, burying his face in his hands. He pushed down the hurt, ultimately reaching the conclusion that that man had not been his brother at all.

Was he really in Hel? Despite dying a courageous death in the heat of combat, was his soul truly unsalvageable? _Was he forever doomed to suffer for all his past crimes and offences?_

He pulled his legs to his chest, pacing his frantic breaths, and tried to keep a cool head to figure out why this had happened to him.

Turning his head slowly, he faced the mirror by his dresser, and saw monstrous, red eyes glaring back at him, along with ghastly blue skin that reminded him of his foul, true nature, before diverting his gaze in revulsion.

Perhaps it was because Frost Giants were _forbidden_ from entering Valhalla.

* * *

“He’s in a coma.”

Amelia sat close beside Loki’s cot in the Avengers Tower infirmary, her shattered, weary gaze fixed interminably to her bedridden lover, who had yet to show any signs of consciousness since she had found him amongst the rubble over twenty-four hours ago. The shrill but steady beep of the machine monitoring his vitals revealed that his pulse had returned to a balanced pace, and his respiratory system was functioning without issue.

She looked to the intravenous drip inserted into Loki’s arm, replenishing lost fluids to keep him hydrated and healthy, and then to the bandages wrapped around his chest, grimacing tearfully at the sight. He lay utterly still, his head supported by a soft pillow that was roughly the same shade of pale white as his skin, probably making him look even more frail than he was, and his black hair - striking in contrast - splayed around him messily; Amelia gnawed at her lip, unable to help but think he looked so _lifeless_ in this state - she hated it, hated to see him this way - Loki was always so _strong,_ but in that moment he looked so delicate. She was afraid to touch him.

“...a coma”, Amelia whispered as Bruce’s statement slowly sunk in, her chest felt unbearably tight all of a sudden, her nerves fizzling with fear for Loki’s condition, and she looked to Thor, who stood leaning against the wall by the door with his arms crossed over his chest, a grim expression on his face. Amelia had hoped Thor would provide at least a smidge of comfort with a small smile or his typically reassuring manner, for her sake if not genuine, but the God of Thunder merely affixed his brother with hard trepidation, wholly betraying the fact that he too was incredibly worried.

“His vitals are stable”, Bruce spoke, his words clear and sympathetic, as always, “Luckily, he’s able to breathe on his own, he just won’t wake up. His brain activity is minimal, but it’s _there,_ so that’s good news…” the doctor rattled off Loki’s short list of ailments, indicating the cuts and scrapes that besmirched his body, the dark bruises around his neck along with various other abrasions, and then motioned his bandaged chest.

“He has three cracked ribs”, Bruce informed, and Amelia nodded with a wince. The fractures had no doubt been caused by the impact of being crushed below the metal debris that she had found him partially buried under. Bruce sighed, “It’s… difficult to treat him, because he’s not human. He may look the same as us, but his physiology is quite different”, his eyes flickered to Thor, a hint of uncertainty in his gaze, “He usually has accelerated healing, but I’m not so sure that’s the case while he’s in such a debilitated state.”

“An equitable conjecture”, Thor concurred with a nod and a faint shrug of his shoulders.

“Therefore, even though Loki appears unresponsive to pain, I’ve bandaged his ribs to ease the movement when he breathes, because as I said... I just can’t be sure”, Bruce gave a weak, apologetic smile, and Amelia sniffled slightly, nodding her head.

“Thank you”, Amelia quietly murmured, grateful that Bruce had thought over the possibilities that Loki could still potentially be feeling the soreness while unable to react or communicate that he was in pain.

“Similarly”, Bruce continued, “He appears unresponsive to sound, but I can’t be sure that he is unable to register noise.” He went on to explain that the scans he performed on Loki’s brain did not suggest that his comatose state was a result of oxygen deprivation, and that therefore it was entirely unclear what was causing his unresponsiveness.

Amelia sighed softly, far from thrilled at the ambivalence over Loki’s insensible state. She knew Bruce was doing everything he could to make sense of what was afflicting Loki, but it set off her anxiety anew to acknowledge how unpredictable Loki’s condition currently was.

“He could wake up tomorrow, or in a week’s time… or longer”, Bruce explained, fiddling offhandedly with the pen between his fingers, and looked to Thor again, “I don’t suppose Loki has ever fallen purposely into an inactive state to recover from battle wounds?”

Thor shook his head, “Not like this, no.”

Amelia leaned slightly forward, moving to the edge of her seat as she observed Loki’s pallid face, inadvertently drowning out whatever more was said between Thor and Bruce - she knew deep down she should have been paying attention to what the doctor had to say, but the sight of her lover’s face so colourless and lacking in vigour was enough to draw her into a perpetual, apprehensive trance.

Loki’s face, albeit covered with cuts and contusions, was relaxed and peaceful, and if it wasn’t for the way his eyes looked somewhat sunken in, or the dull hue of his lips, she may have tricked herself into thinking he was just sleeping - with the blessings of wakefulness in sight.

But he would not wake up if she gently shook him, he would not wake up if she called his name - it was not the same as when he was caught in a nightmare - she couldn’t just coax him out of it; she couldn’t do anything, she just had to _wait._

“Did Thanos do anything else to him, Thor?” asked Bruce, drawing Amelia’s attention back to the conversation at hand, and Thor frowned contemplatively, thinking back to the day before when he had to witness the Mad Titan’s brutal attack on his younger brother.

“I think… I think Thanos used the Mind stone”, the thought made his lip curl nauseously, “...but I am not positive.”

Bruce looked back to Loki’s sickly form, a pensive expression befalling his face, “...if that is so, then we must be cautious and continue to monitor his brain activity. It may be apparent that Thanos has not done any irreparable damage to Loki outwardly, but in his mind, it may be another story.”

His words were entirely unsoothing, and only made Amelia feel worse. She felt clammy and queasy just listening to Bruce’s speculation - to think Thanos had done anything to Loki’s mind was a frightening possibility. Amelia swallowed tightly; Loki had suffered enough in his life, he didn’t need any more complications.

Bruce straightened his posture, cringing as he kneaded his fingers into the crease between his neck and his shoulder - he had yet to completely recover from the strenuous beating he’d received from Thanos after transforming into the Hulk, and Amelia was entirely appreciative that he had worked to aid Loki despite his aching muscles.

“I’m going to go take a shower”, the doctor informed, placing his pen down on the bedside table, “-you know, I- I think Thanos punched the Hulk so hard that I’ve now got this incessant ringing in my ears”, he waved his fingers beside his head, giving a slightly nervous laugh, and it seemed as though he was trying his best to break the rigid tension of the room, but Amelia could not muster the will to smile.

“Thank you for your help”, she told him in a small voice, and Bruce sighed, nodding his head.

“Of course”, he responded, before leaving Thor and Amelia alone with Loki.

Amelia shifted agitatedly in her seat as silence befell the room, with nothing but the emitting noise of the vitals monitor making it clear that Loki’s heart was still pumping; her eyes flickered to Thor as the God of Thunder walked around the opposite edge of the bed and sat in the chair there. She wondered what was going through his head, knowing from his furrowed brow and distinct lack of optimism that it couldn’t have been anything good, and let her eyes fall to her bandaged hands.

While she still felt twinges and aches all over her body from her ferocious fall down the spiny, rugged slope, her palms had suffered the worst, with tears and lacerations mutilating her skin; she had quickly grown nauseated at the bloody sight, and Bruce had kindly offered to disinfect and dress the wounds while she sat fretfully in the back of the quinjet they had taken home from Wakanda, all the while unable to keep her eyes off of Loki’s quiescent body.

The edges of the antiseptic gauze around her hands had started spotting red, and Amelia could feel the raw stinging sensation every time she curled her fingers - still, in the grand scheme of things, Amelia regarded her wounds as quite minor in comparison to the injuries some of the others had sustained.

“Are you alright?” Thor queried after the extended hush, and Amelia shook her head without looking up.

“No.”

Another few minutes of quietness passed before Thor inevitably broke it again.

“I’m sorry”, he said, and this time Amelia did meet his eyes.

“Don’t apologise, Thor”, Amelia murmured, her lips pulling down into a prolonged frown. Loki’s condition was not Thor’s fault; Amelia knew the God of Thunder would have done everything in his position to ensure no harm came to his younger brother, which meant that Thor had been put in a situation where he was helpless to intervene.

Amelia felt an eager ache to know exactly how the Mad Titan had met his end; she wanted to know that the tyrant known as Thanos had _suffered_ for what he had done. Her violent thoughts surprised her, because she generally wasn’t the type to wish pain on others, even when they so maliciously deserved it.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Amelia asked, distantly fiddling with a loose strip of bandage peeking out from the gauze on her hand.

Thor looked at her, hesitation in his mismatched eyes, clearly preferring to withhold the explicit details of the brutal battle, “Amelia, I… I don’t think-”

“Just tell me”, Amelia implored, “and don’t sugarcoat it. I want to know.”

Thor sighed, but ultimately conceded, “I was confined, exhausted and barely able to move. Thanos demanded the final infinity stone from Loki, threatening to kill me if he did not hand it over, but the Hulk interceded, buying just a few moments of time… and then Loki faced Thanos again. He looked confident…” Thor bit his lower lip, eyes flicking questioningly to Loki, “I thought he might have had a plan, but then… Thanos grabbed him- strangled him-” he subconsciously clenched his fist as he relayed the recollection.

Amelia swallowed, prompting Thor to continue with a nod.

“It wasn’t until Thanos used the gauntlet that Loki actually fell limp. It didn’t cross my mind at the time that he may have still been alive… Thanos just tossed him aside like a ragdoll”, his jaw tightened, “I… thought he was dead, _again._ Just- the thought of losing Loki after everything, after he’d finally seen the light”, he looked meaningfully to Amelia, “...I was enraged, my strength reignited, I called my axe and all the power I had left, and I severed the titan’s arm before he could affix the final infinity stone.”

Thor exhaled, disappointment in his eyes, “I wanted to see him suffer, but I knew there was no time. The lightning I summoned pierced the ship above, causing a vast explosion- that is when I lost sight of Loki’s body”, he grinded his teeth together, “I didn’t even get to land the killing blow”, he mumbled, “As far as I know, Nebula had the pleasure of ending Thanos’s life.”

Amelia slumped back in her chair, lightly rubbing her hand over her face; she shared Thor’s dismay at not having been able to cause Thanos intense agony in his final moments - but she too understood that it was more important to take the titan out at the first opportunity as opposed to dragging his death out. If Thanos had been able to achieve his goal, well - the thought set her teeth on edge.

“I tried to look for him”, Thor admitted softly, “but I had exhausted myself, I could hardly move-”

“It’s okay”, Amelia interjected, “He’s safe now… that’s what matters”, she looked back over Loki’s frail body, hoping she was right.

After a while, Thor stood, declaring that he would allow Amelia some privacy with Loki and that he would return shortly; as the god left the room, Amelia felt just a little bit smaller, finding discomfort in being left alone with Loki’s incapacitated form. She said nothing for the longest time, stewing in her unease and flagrant distress over the whole situation, before she remembered what Bruce had said.

While Loki appeared unresponsive to sound and touch, Bruce had no solid evidence that Loki could not feel or hear everything happening around him, and the thought made Amelia swallow guiltily before she shimmied out of her chair and stood by Loki’s bed.

Pushing back on the irrational fear of touching Loki in his delicate state, Amelia looked briefly down to her bandaged hand before slipping her fingers below his down-turned palm that lay at his side; she gently held onto his limp, ashen hand, using her thumb to caress his knuckles tenderly, hoping that if he _could_ register the sensation, the touch would be a welcomed comfort.

It was daunting to witness Loki like this - there was not even a hint of a reaction to her affectionate little gesture. Somewhere, deep down, she had hoped his fingers would have tightened around her own, but her wishful thinking was not powerful enough to alter the fact of the matter that Loki was in a coma, and he likely wasn’t going to awaken anytime soon.

She leant down, mindful of the IV in his arm, and hovered above his face, watching him closely for any signs of alertness; she blew a light puff of air over his face, but there was no indication that he was aware - not a flutter of his eyelids or a twitch of his nose, just the same impassive look on his slack face.

He looked as still as a corpse, save for the modest rise and fall of his chest.

Amelia brushed her lips across his forehead, before whispering softly into his ear, “Loki, I don’t know if you can hear me… but if you can, I am here, and I love you.”

* * *

Loki knelt precariously on the window ledge outside of the aperture in his bedroom, looking down with furrowed brows, calculatingly, at the ground below, wondering if his legs would suffer too unpleasantly from the lengthy plunge he was prepared to endure. There was no other way out of his room than a quick jump and a swift fall, and hopefully _not_ a couple of broken legs.

He needed to escape, to find a way out of this wretched realm that the _fake-Thor_ had so cheerfully identified as Helheim, if that was indeed true. There had to be a way out _somehow,_ but Loki wasn’t sure the rules of this domain adhered to the laws of physics in other realms.

 _Theoretically,_ if he was already dead, then he wouldn’t be able to die from plummeting to the ground below, but whether his soul would be forced to endure the pain of the impact was another premise entirely.

There was only one way to find out, though.

Loki stood up within the aperture, bracing himself with his hands on the stone frame, and brought his feet to the very edge of the overhang, irked to find that his legs were faintly shaking. It was a long way down, but Loki had willingly fallen into the void once, without fear - it vexed him that the thought of leaping now was apparently enough to make him tremble.

He had looked death in the eyes before and come out only _partly_ scathed. Today was no different. Loki poised himself, bolstering the confidence within him that he could persist and make it out of this unsavoury realm.

Before he could will himself to fall forward, a warmth brushed across the side of his face, and a murmur of incoherent words drifted into his ear, causing him to freeze; he glanced back into the murkiness behind him questioningly, finding nothing but the illusion of peaceful seclusion in his childhood room.

Somehow, for whatever reason, he felt assurance in the warm puff that had tickled his cheek.

Loki took a deep breath, and jumped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember to review! It heightens my spirits and makes it easier for me to write! :D
> 
> EDIT: For some reason the notes at the end of the last chapter messed up and was displayed here so I went and deleted the end note from the last chapter which fixed it. No idea what that was about but now it won't let me edit the notes from the last chapter. AO3 get yo shit together!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had a bit of a bad week, but I'm doing better now. Apologies if this chapter is a little on the short side!

The solid ground swiftly approached as Loki plunged down.

He tried to manoeuvre his body into a position that would offer minimal injury, or at least leave him with ability to easily heal himself - it would be quicker and more straightforward to restore himself to full health with the use of his hands and arms, so Loki resigned to landing on his legs. Or at least, he  _ would  _ have, had the ground not warped out of existence below him, leaving him plummeting down into a deep, dark nothingness that Loki knew all too well.

Loki was headed for the abyss, the void that housed a wormhole to another universe, one that he knew once dropped him right into the tyrannical hands of Thanos.

Goosebumps erupted over his skin and he took involuntary, gasping breaths as fear gripped him, arms flailing pointlessly as he descended into the unpredictable, vast emptiness of space. His heart hammered in his chest as he pondered whether his first mistake had been to assume that Helheim played by the rules of the cosmos as other realms did.

Loki rapidly sucked in impossibly thin air for several excruciating moments, his lungs protesting with a wretched burning sensation.

Then, suddenly, he couldn’t breathe at all.

_ Great.  _ Now he was falling into a wormhole  _ and  _ suffocating.

The blank expanse before him distorted, and Loki clawed at his throat, mouth agape as if he could manage to draw in oxygen that did not exist, and then he was pulled into the invisible gateway, screaming soundlessly as his body was stretched and twisted by a cruel, unseen force.

_ “Wake up, Loki.” _

Loki’s eyes snapped open and he wheezed loudly, jerking upright into a sitting position, his hands flying to his face to make sure his head was still correctly oriented as his gaze darted around the room he had awoken to. He calmed his breaths, slumping slightly as he respired shakily, dropping his hands to caress the soft, royal blue material of the bed sheets.

He was home, sat in his bed in Avengers Tower.

Looking immediately to his left, Loki frowned, finding that Amelia was not lying by his side, despite the fact that he had been so sure he’d heard her voice just a few moments ago.

“Amelia?” He called softly into the room, blinking through the darkness, and found that his mind was unfortunately addled. Usually when he awoke from a nightmare, Amelia was right at his side, whispering soothing utterances in her hypnotically subduing voice to bring him back to reality, but now, she was nowhere to be seen.

Loki rubbed his eyes as he tried to surmise when his nightmare had begun - what had been real, and what had been a fantasy dreamed up by his tormented mind? Had he survived Thanos’s assault and simply been brought back to the tower to recover, or had he and Thor ever ventured into space under Heimdall’s guidance  _ at all?  _ If the whole thing had been a fierce fantasy conjured up by his head, it felt as though it had lasted a lifetime.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Loki let out a grunt and pushed back the covers, reaching down to the bedside drawer to investigate whether or not the Tesseract was still where he had left it originally. Peeking into the hidden dimensional pocket, Loki found that there was nothing - the Tesseract was gone, which meant everything up until Thanos had choked him must have been real.

The experience of the so-called Helheim had already begun to feel like a distant memory, and Loki sighed with relief. Of course it had just been a dream. His mother would never be so ruthless and uncaring towards him.

Loki glanced out the window, finding the sky to be cloudy and black; it was late, and he couldn’t help but wonder why Amelia was not with him - it wasn’t that he presumed the woman would stay plastered to his side upon his return from a laborious battle, but it was clearly past midnight,  _ where else would she be? _

Something was not right. It was far too quiet inside and outside of the tower - not even the distant hum of late night cars roaming down the idle streets perforated the heavy silence.

Loki pushed himself to his feet, making his way with studious steps into the hallway outside of his room, and trudged immediately to the elevator; he pressed the button repeatedly to call it, but after several failed attempts, he begrudgingly concluded that there must have been a fault with the machine, and deigned to taking the stairs.

“Hello?” he called out to the apparent emptiness of the building as he exited the stairwell onto the community floor, figuring that he might find at least  _ one  _ of the Avengers loitering in the main living quarters.

There was a noise, something ominous, scuttling and inhuman, which readily set Loki’s teeth on edge, and he froze in the middle of the corridor, bracing himself to launch into action should the need arise. Ahead of him, from within the lounge quarters, a monstrous, multi-armed creature emerged, and Loki promptly recognised it as one of Thanos’s outriders.

What did this mean? Had Thanos prevailed after all?

Loki ground his teeth together, conjuring daggers in his hands, and made to pounce, ready to shred the savage alien the moment it turned his way; the wretched beast angled its head, spotting him clearly, and it faltered in step. Loki took the opportunity of its evident off-guard state and lurched towards it, swinging his knives with practised motions, he became overwhelmed with a sense of satisfaction as the outrider screeched in agony while Loki tore it apart, painting the surrounding area with its inky blood.

Within moments, he was accosted by two more of the enraged beasts, and let out a wrathful cry as he turned on them too, slitting through their coal-like hide, stabbing relentlessly until the creatures fell dead beside the first corpse.

Loki drew in harsh breaths, his fury rising with his alarm for Amelia, and he staggered into the lounge, the front of his body saturated with gore, and spotted one more outrider keeping its distance, cowering from the sight of its comrades having been ripped to pieces.

“Where is she?” Loki hissed, his blades clenched tightly in his fists as he slowly stalked towards it, “Where is Amelia?”

He would kill every last one of these disgusting beasts if it came to it, he would not let them harm her, Loki would do everything in his power to keep her safe - but first, he had to find her.

_ “Where is she?”  _ Loki snapped, eyes wide and frenzied, and the outrider shrunk back in fear; a cruel smirk reached Loki’s face as he watched it quake - at least this creature knew better than its comrades that it stood no chance against him - still, that did not mean he would spare its life.

The beast gave no indication that it knew of Amelia’s whereabouts, merely continuing to tremble, so Loki decided not to waste anymore time trying to intimidate the information out of it; he bolted towards it, daggers poised, and brought them down into the creature’s chest, skewering it over and over with complete abandon as it tried pathetically to push him away - he boxed it in as the beast crumpled to the ground, and even then he did not stop - piercing it until its feeble shrieks grew silent.

Loki blinked, and the foul beast was no more. Instead, Amelia lay below him, barely clinging to life as she bled out, her chest and stomach coated a deep red through the material of her blouse. 

“...no”, the word breezed past Loki’s lips, no louder than a whisper, “no, no, n-no,  _ no.” _

Her wide eyes watched him, full of pain and fear, as the sound of weak gurgles escaped her mouth; the knives slipped from Loki’s grip, his hands shaking with unrelenting tremors, and he rushed despairingly to cover the multiple wounds down the front of her body, applying pressure, as if there were any chance she could survive his hallucination-induced attack.

_ “No, Amelia, no…”  _ His voice cracked. Her eyes darted frantically between his, wordlessly pleading for help, for the agony and suffering to end, along with the shocked enquiry of  _ why. _

_ Why did you do this to me? _

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry… I’m so-sorry”, it was all he could say as numbness spread throughout his body, leaving him practically paralysed as he crouched over Amelia’s rapidly dying form; hot, wet tears trailed down his face and he screamed in desperation as he watched the light fade from her honey-brown eyes.

He lay above her, the words  _ ‘no, no, no’  _ leaving his mouth in a litany; not only had he failed to protect her, but he’d been the direct cause of Amelia’s excruciating, gruesome death. 

In an instant, the darkness of the room grew overwhelmingly bright, and the deafening silence split, replaced with the faint sound of birdsong and running water; Loki rose his head from his shuddering position to be greeted with the sight of Asgard once again -  _ no, not Asgard,  _ **_Hel_ ** \- deceptively vivid in light and warmth, taking the visage of his beloved home by way of luring him into a false sense of security.

He was alone again, no longer hovering above Amelia’s massacred form, sprawled across the bricked paving of the path far below his palace window - unscathed, with no residual aches or pains to speak of - his eyes puffy from the heart-rending grief he had experienced mere moments ago.

_ It wasn’t real,  _ he told himself,  _ just a cruel vision. _

He would not allow himself to be so easily fooled for a third time.

He understood now - understood what his retribution within this damned realm would be. Loki had spent his life playing tricks on people, and now Hel demanded that his mind play tricks on him -  _ for eternity, perhaps?  _ \- showing him images that were carefully crafted to plague him with all manner of negative thoughts and feelings.  _ Despair, rage, doubt, loss  _ \- his throat was still tight with pain and his face still splashed with burning tears.

Loki cleared his throat, swallowing the thick emotions that had bubbled up in his distress, and while the illusionary, wet warmth of blood has disappeared from his clothing, he could still clearly smell the iron tang of the carnage he had created. He shivered in disgust, wiping his cheeks with the back of his hand, and forced himself into a state of calmness so that he could once again attempt to think with a more logical mind.

His second mistake had been to assume he could detect the difference between his reality of neverending torment and the fictitious illusions it threw at him.

The palace grounds seemed deserted, not a soul in sight, and Loki turned his gaze in the direction of the Bifrost - it may have been a long shot, and he had not yet become entirely accustomed to his new surroundings, thus he had no better ideas - but  _ maybe  _ at the end of the rainbow bridge, he would find a way to traverse from Hel to another realm.

Pulling himself to his feet, Loki began to trudge despondently to his next destination, cautious and on-guard of anymore delusions that could be planted into his brain.

One thing was for sure - Loki could not trust his own eyes, and that was a worrying thought.

* * *

Loki did not wake up the next day, nor did he wake up after one week, and by the time his coma had hit the two-week mark, Amelia was truly not faring well. She had received time off work after informing her boss that there was a ‘family emergency’, and had spent the last fourteen days sitting by Loki’s bedside, rarely leaving except for to use the bathroom and retrieve food from the kitchen.

The longer Loki lay, immobile, with his eyes gently shut, the more Amelia began to torturously draw comparisons from the time her mother was terminally ill. Amelia had watched her mother’s health slowly deteriorate as she endured the crippling effects of chemotherapy, her face becoming all the more pale and gaunt - as Loki’s was now - as her life force gradually left her.

Amelia had been eighteen years old when her mother passed away, twenty-three years old when her brother passed away, and now she was twenty-nine, having to watch Loki waste away in his state of inertia, with one of two possibilities in sight. Either he would awaken, or he would eventually die.

She really could not bare to lose another loved one.

“Wake up, Loki”, Amelia implored, after several hours of complete silence, and felt another pang of sorrow when he did not do as she requested, “Just… wake up. Please.” Again, Loki remained unresponsive, even as she laid her palm flat on his chest and jogged him lightly, feeling the rhythmic pulse on his heart in time with the beep of the vitals monitor.

There had been no change in brain activity, and while Bruce had not outright said that this was a bad thing, Amelia knew from the concerned micro-expressions that inadvertently flashed over his face that it was very much  _ not  _ a good thing. 

It made Amelia wonder if Loki was at all aware of his predicament, or whether he was blissfully ignorant of the fact that he was lying dormant in an infirmary bed. She had heard once that coma patients could still dream while trapped within their bodies - if that was the case, she hoped Loki’s dreams were peaceful and radiant, instead of the troubling nightmares he had undergone for far too long.

_ “Keep talking to him”,  _ Bruce had told her, because there was a chance it could rouse him from his unconsciousness, but it had become difficult to speak to Loki without breaking down in sobs and weeps, too overcome with the thought that it was hopeless to believe he would wake.

It was just like talking to a brick wall. Despite the presence of her friends - of Thor, Bruce and Tony - Amelia felt  _ alone  _ again.

Amelia’s eyes flickered to the clock to discover that it was almost half past three in the afternoon; her head was killing her and her throat was parched, but she could not bring herself to leave Loki’s side - too entangled with the idea that he might open his eyes while she was gone and wonder why he was alone in an empty room full of beeping machines. 

“Have you eaten today?”

Startling at the question, Amelia turned her head to find Thor stood in the doorway of the infirmary, watching her with a deep frown - she had not heard his approaching footsteps, and the sudden break of silence had caused her heart to thump. 

She sighed, shaking her head ‘no’, and turned back to Loki.

Thor said nothing more, but she acknowledged the sound of him walking back down the hall after a short while, and let out a breath of minor relief - she had expected him to remark on the fact that she should take better care of herself, from eating and drinking enough to sleeping in a more comfortable position.

Amelia had taken to curling up in the chair by Loki’s bed and sleeping nestled in a blanket, which she  _ knew  _ wasn’t good for her back, but while Bruce had helpfully set up another infirmary bed across the room for her to rest in, she couldn’t bare to be more than a few metres away from Loki’s side at all times.

She didn’t care if the others thought her stubborn for refusing to step away from her comatosed lover, she just wanted to be there for Loki in case he awoke by himself.

Amelia further subjected herself to soaking in the appearance of Loki’s weak form, focusing heavily on the way his cheekbones had become sharper as he lost weight due to the fact the nutrients being injected into his system was not quite enough for his body to stay invigorated; Bruce had explained that it was inevitable that Loki would lose a little fat and muscle the longer he remained in his condition, and while it was only a diminutive amount, it was still  _ enough  _ for Amelia to centre on. Even though she expected it, it was difficult to watch unfold in real-time, and so quickly at that.

The cuts and scrapes that blemished his skin had almost healed, leaving small scars and patchy abrasions in his complexion which would fade over time, but the dark, yellowing splotches around his neck served as a reminder of what he had suffered through.

Amelia’s own wounds had mostly healed up, but her palms were still sore and sensitive if they met too much friction, not that she was entirely bothered by the tenderness of her injuries while Loki lay, health waning, in the bed before her. She took comfort in holding his hand in hers without the barrier of the bandage between them; his fingers were often cold - as was the norm for him - and she felt obliged to keep them warm.

Rubbing her thumb across the back of his knuckles, Amelia leaned forward in her chair, pressing a kiss to Loki’s hand, before she pulled her phone from her pocket to access her music app. “Loki. Do you remember the first song we danced to?” She laid the phone down on the side table, setting it to an appropriate volume - not too loud, but loud enough that it might pierce through Loki’s torpid condition.

“It was  _ Give Me Love  _ by Ed Sheeran, remember? You chose the song, and we danced together.” She tapped the play button, and the sweet harmony of plucking guitar strings sounded rhythmically, bringing back the wonderful memories of the night they had waltzed to the dulcet tune and mellifluous singing.

_ ‘Give me love like her, cause lately I’ve been waking up alone…’ _

Amelia bit her lip as the song elicited the soft recollection of the evening Loki had swayed and twirled and spun with her, instructing her with each step. She hadn’t known his true identity back then, but she remembered the way he had touched her, held her, spoken softly to her, and caused her to fall deeply in love with him.

“Maybe when you wake up, we could dance again”, Amelia whispered faintly, running her fingers lightly through Loki’s dry, tangled tresses in order to even them out.

_ ‘...and that I’ll fight my corner, maybe tonight I’ll call ya, after my blood turns into alcohol…’ _

Amelia felt her eyes prick with tears and she snapped them shut, too exhausted in all senses of the word to allow herself to cry anymore - it was all she had been doing for the past two weeks when the others were not present. Except for one instance, when she had thought the main living quarters to be empty, and slunked into the room late in the night to pluck a bottle of whiskey from behind the bar - only to turn around and come face to face with Tony, whose eyes had fallen to the bottle clutched in her hands, and then to her face, a stern, underlying sympathy visible in his gaze.

“Are you sure you want to drink that?” He had asked her, not unkindly -  _ he probably wouldn’t have stopped her if she had pushed past him to find an isolated corner of the tower to get drunk _ \- but with the wisdom of a man who had most certainly  _ been there  _ before.

Amelia’s hands had shaken, and then she began to sob, unable to do much else. To Tony’s credit, he took the whiskey from her, placed it down on the bar, and quickly scooped her up into a comforting hug. The CEO had learned at some point over the course of Amelia’s residence in the Avengers Tower that she had a bit of a precarious past with alcohol, and while Amelia was unable to articulate it at the time, she had been thankful for his intervention.

_ “...my my, my my, oh give me love…” _

Loki refused to stir from the honeyed music - not even a flare of his nostrils or a flutter of his eyelids - and Amelia pressed her hands to her face, trying to erect a physical barrier between the teardrops threatening to fall and the rest of her miserable, puffy face.

“Amelia.”

With a soft gasp, Amelia quickly rubbed the damp bleariness from around her vision and paused the music emanating from her phone, before perching once again on the chair by the bed, making a point to look away from the entrance of the room to hide her sorrow. Thor had managed to sneak up on her  _ again. _

“I’ve brought you some food, and a drink”, Thor spoke, and Amelia sniffed, keeping her head down; she truly appreciated that the God of Thunder was looking out for her, but a perpetual feeling of nausea had set in her stomach, and she didn’t think she could manage to eat anything without making it worse.

Thor moved to stand beside her, holding out a glass of orange juice, and a small plate containing a handful of apple slices and a chocolate chip muffin. Amelia took them in order to appease him, knowing Thor would refuse to leave until she took the food, and sipped the juice in small amounts.

This seemed to please Thor, at least to a degree, and he took a seat on the opposite side of Loki’s bed, watching Amelia until she had finished the glass, but promptly frowned when she made no move to eat from the plate he had brought her.

“You must be hungry”, Thor pointed out, and Amelia grimaced slightly at the plate in her lap, shaking her head slightly.

“No, I don’t feel well”, she protested with a shrug of her shoulders.

“You don’t feel well because you haven’t eaten”, Thor concluded, cocking an eyebrow, “eat, and you will feel better.”

The thought of swallowing any food while she felt so queasy would have been enough to make her retch, only there was no food in her stomach, so she didn’t have to worry about throwing up all over herself. “I really can’t”, Amelia whined.

“Just… eat  _ something.  _ Please.” 

The urgent plea of Thor’s voice made Amelia feel guilty, and she fought the involuntary quiver of her lip, looking down with aversion at the muffin and apple slices; she knew he was just trying to look out for her, but it was difficult to eat when she was so sick with worry.

Eventually, under the imploring gaze of Thor’s mismatched eyes, Amelia gave in, and began to pick apart the muffin, placing small pieces in her mouth and chewing slowly so as not to agitate her stomach. Thor gave a small, reassuring smile, thankful that she had listened to him. In the end, she only ate two apple slices and half of the muffin, but it was better than nothing.

“Why don’t you go for a walk and get some fresh air?” Thor proposed after a while, and Amelia had to keep the exhausted groan from leaving her lips. She couldn’t - she wasn’t entirely sure she’d be able to hold herself up on her own two feet for longer than a few minutes - there was no way she could even make it to the outside of the tower before keeling over.

“Maybe tomorrow”, Amelia murmured, knowing that straight up refusing would not make Thor happy.

Thor watched her closely for a few moments, likely calling her bluff on the inside, before he sighed and frowned, but ultimately nodded his head; it was unrealistic to think he could convince Amelia to eat  _ and  _ take a beneficial walk in the sunshine on the same day - she was far too obstinate.

* * *

Loki reached the Bifrost after what felt like days.

Every second step he had taken had thrust him forth into unwanted, grisly visions of Amelia dying over and over  _ and over  _ again; he had remained steadfast in his journey across the prismatic bridge, endeavouring not to fall into the trap of suspecting truth in the graphic imagery around him, but even with the knowledge that Hel was attempting to break his mind with these unforgiving delusions, it was difficult to remain unaffected. 

He did not know how many times he’d been forced to watch Amelia die - he lost count after the first hundred or so - but his resolve was dented, and he felt  _ sick.  _ He had grown almost afraid of taking another step, loathing and apprehensive of what the realm would conjure up for him this time, but he couldn’t just stop, he needed to retain his composure and push through.

It was gruelling to ignore the hallucinations that pervaded his senses, though, especially when Amelia’s agonised and grief-stricken cries sounded so  _ real. _

He’d watched her perish in so many ways already, while he stood and stared, distant and detached so as not to fall victim to the intent of the illusions,  _ while she reached for him with quivering hands, begging him to help her,  _ and he clenched his fists so hard that his nails pierced the sensitive skin of his palms and drew blood.

Loki had numbed himself to it, successfully disregarding everything he saw, passing it off as  _ lies and tricks  _ without a second thought, and he shunned the uncertainty every time it burrowed into his head, whispering seeds of doubt -  _ what if the things you’re seeing are actually real? What if Amelia is truly in danger right before your eyes and you’re just standing there, watching impassively as she screams in pain? _

It wasn’t real. None of it was real. 

Stepping into the Bifrost dome at the very end of the shimmering path, Loki released a breath, but kept his guard high. It would be foolish of him to expect that to be the end of Helheim’s unrelenting assault on his mind. 

With another step toward Heimdall’s Bifrost key -  _ the sword that was planted in place, ready to be utilised as transport _ \- Loki observed distortion around the edge of his sight and ground his teeth together, bracing himself for another malicious hallucination. The world around him suddenly went black and noiseless, and for a few drawn-out moments, Loki was uneased, thinking he’d been cursed with blindness and deafness.

Then he saw Amelia, of course, and she stood facing away from him, her head lowered in what was presumably dejection. As Loki stepped closer, he could hear the soft sounds of her sniffles as she cried; he remained still, deciding not to approach, as he waited for the inevitable bloodshed to come, but no - she just continued to weep.

Against his better judgement, Loki called out to her, “Amelia?” and his voice sounded ear-splitting in the vast emptiness around them.

Amelia spun around, rubbing her sore, red eyes free of tears, and gave an involuntary hiccup, looking upon him with awe and hopefulness, “Loki?” she gasped, and sucked in a shaky breath, holding out her hand.

Loki’s wary gaze dropped to her outstretched hand, and then back to her face with all the skepticism and dubiety he had accumulated over the course of his hellish adventure. He shook his head, making no move to proceed towards her and take her hand.

“Please”, Amelia whispered, “...dance with me?”

Loki’s eyebrows furrowed at her request, and in time, he heard the subtle, soft voice of a beautiful chorus that he was utterly familiar with.

_ ‘...my my, my my, oh give me love…’ _

The singing grew gradually clearer, and Loki cocked his head, listening to the melody of the song he and Amelia had first danced to, and at once he was filled with dense emotion, causing him to swallow frantically in an attempt to dislodge the lump in his throat, but to no avail. It felt as though he was drowning from the inside out.

“Please”, Amelia spoke again, her hand still there for him to take, “Come on, Loki. Please.”

It was far too tempting. The allure of taking Amelia’s hand, of giving in to her plea, was so incredibly enticing.

“No”, Loki stated, shaking his head rigidly.

It wasn’t real. It was another trick. He’d take her hand and be coerced into watching another illusion of her suffering. 

He refused to acknowledge the devastating heartbreak in her eyes, and turned his back, walking away into the darkness until the false world faded along with the music, and he once again stood in the Bifrost dome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you enjoyed this chapter! I was stressed out while writing earlier in the week so I would be overjoyed if you could leave a comment because it would make me suuuuuper happy ;)
> 
> I'm off to go watch the new Han Solo movie now!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note to tell you that updates over the next few weeks might be a bit slower - like, I cannot for sure guarantee an update every week, because I've been feeling real lethargic and my mind has been on other things, but I will certainly try my best to get the chapters out. I'm mainly worried about the quality not being as good as previous chapters. I hope I can deliver!

Loki’s fingers brushed the hilt of Heimdall’s sword, and within an instant, he was soaring through the Bifrost at incredible speeds. He did not know where he was going, but surely anywhere was better than the barbaric realm of Helheim - the prismatic light surrounded him as he was transported through the expanse of the cosmos, until the light died down and he was gradually engulfed in arcane darkness.

He was falling. _Again._

This time, however, there was no struggle for breath; he drew in air, forcing himself to remain calm as the feeling of wind rushing past his head from behind continued on for several long moments until, suddenly, he was flat on his back upon a soft mattress.

His body gave a jolt, as if his muscles had abruptly reawakened after being forced to relax, and sat up, feeling unfortunately queasy as he moved. Loki groaned, rubbing his eyes, and cast a glance around the room, blinking as he absorbed the unfamiliar setting; he had awoken in a bedroom with a mix of rustic and sophisticated decor, lying below soft, green bed sheets.

He found himself to be dressed in Midgardian pyjamas and cocked his head, catching sight of the sunshine drifting in through the windows, a hint of green peeking in to enliven the monochrome colour scheme of the room.

Loki was filled with qualms at once; it was clear to him that he hadn’t truly traversed out of Helheim with the help of the Bifrost - he was still there, and this was just another delusion. It angered him that he was susceptible to such false images, even with the knowledge that what he could see was not tangible - _he_ was the master of illusions, he should have been able to pierce through the erroneous images before him and see the true nature of the hellish realm around him.

It made him want to pull his hair out.

There was no use in waiting around for something awful to happen. Perhaps finding more evidence of the spurious reality would shatter the hallucination for good, and leave him invulnerable to more.

Loki rose from the bed, crossing the room to the window to observe the external environment, and cocked an eyebrow at how pleasant and harmonious the sight was. From what he could tell, he had awoken in some sort of cabin; there was a forest to the right and a small field to the left - the grass was greener than he had ever seen before - and in the immediate vicinity, there was a quaint, little garden.

He narrowed his eyes, doubtful of the tranquil vision, and turned away, finding the door the led out of the room, into a short hallway, and followed it down, finding the exit of the cabin. He stepped out into the sunlight, breathing in the mingling smells of nature; the garden cultivated a mix of flowers and crops, growing from the earth in a very organised manner, and his eyes drew over the wooded area, across the shed at the end of the yard, to rest on the stable at the far end of the field.

Loki descended the steps of the wooden decking and let his bare feet touch the grass, stepping towards the half-grown vegetation to look more closely at it. There were slowly ripening tomatoes, cabbages, parsnips, and other notable vegetables, but he needn’t have looked at anymore to deduce that his current vision was set somewhere in Midgard.

The soil was darker and clumpy where the greenery emerged from - the crops had recently been watered.

Loki could hear the distant sound of horses snorting and whinnying, along with cheerful birdsong emanating from the trees, and he strained his ears, listening for more noises - anything that could appear to sound out of place - while stepping back toward the cabin, taking extra care to remain as quiet as possible so as not to disturb the peaceful air into an unwanted sense of unrest.

As he entered the door he had come from, Loki heard the unmistakable sound of a small, shrill whine, followed by soft shushing, and froze. He walked warily down the short corridor, spotting a door that was halfway ajar, further past the room he had initially woken in, and let his feet fall quietly on the colourful rug lining the hallway floor, wishing not to alert anybody to his presence. Another high-pitched sob caused his brow to furrow in confusion, with a sprinkle of apprehension.

He paused outside the door, peering into the room, and stilled.

The soothing hushes belonged to Amelia, and the squealing cries emerged from the agitated infant she was rocking back and forth in her arms. Loki swallowed, eyes flickering around the room briefly, catching sight of the baby’s cot she stood beside and the abundance of soft toys in and around it; he further noted the twinkling fairy lights lining the walls, creating a subduing atmosphere. He took an alarmed step back, trying to absorb everything before him an what it could possibly suggest, and the floorboard creaked below his foot.

Amelia turned suddenly, a flicker of shock on her face that quickly dispersed to amused relief, “Oh, Loki, you scared me”, she remarked, a smile taking its place on her lips, and she returned to gently swaying the infant in her arms into a pacified state, “Did you sleep well, darling? I know you usually like to get up early, but you looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to wake you.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed with uncertainty, his gaze flicking between Amelia and the bundle in her arms, and he remained silent, lips parted with unease as he pinned the woman with a cautious look. She looked odd, somehow - something in her face was different than before.

 _It’s not real,_ he reminded himself, _this is all part of it - all a part of the hallucinations. Just a trick._ He ground his teeth in frustration, resentment clouding his mind. Why was he being shown images like this?

Maybe he’d been close to breaking free from the faux visions, and the workings of Hel had constructed a new type of torment for him - one that tried to convince him to lower his guard by revealing mollifying imagery as opposed to brutal gore and bloodshed.

Loki’s mouth snapped shut, looking upon the scene with a hardened gaze.

“Leif is cranky today”, Amelia murmured as she calmed the fussing baby, “He woke up one too many times in the night, I think.”

Loki tried to keep his gaze on Amelia, but his eyes inevitably wandered to the child she cradled to her chest, wrapped in a soft, silvery blanket - it was small and fragile-looking, whimpering softly, interrupted only by a delicate, little yawn that betrayed how sleepy it was; Loki wracked his brain. Was this infant, in Hel’s speculative illusion of a happy life, supposed to be his son?

Amelia turned back to Loki curiously, finally noticing his stunned silence, and tilted her head, “Are you alright, Loki?” she asked, eyes scanning his face with a hint of worry, and Loki did not answer her, instead staring her down with distrust; Amelia frowned, a sudden sorrow falling over her face, and she shook her head in trepidation.

“You’ve forgotten again, haven’t you?” she whispered, as if speaking the words was crushingly painful. Loki’s eyebrows knitted together an he inclined his head with perplexity, not following what _so-called_ Amelia was talking about. Amelia exhaled with resignation, the gesture inundated with grief, and she looked sadly down at the baby - who had managed to fall into a light slumber - and nodded her head.

“Alright… we should talk outside”, she said, miserably, and carefully placed the swaddled infant down into the cot. She straightened up, though her upset added a slight slump to her posture, and she passed by him, asking him to follow her with an imploring look.

Loki gave the sleeping baby one last prudent glance, before following Amelia out of the cabin and into the garden, chary with each step as he predicted a sudden onslaught of chaos to arrive at any moment. He left the cabin and saw Amelia on the wooden deck, sitting on a wicker bench that looked all too familiar - it was the bench from the garden in the Avengers Tower - and he subconsciously left the back door ajar, in case the baby was to wake and cry once more.

Amelia patted the bench beside her and Loki remained vigilant, approaching slowly to take a seat beside her; instead of facing her, he looked out across the field, eyes on the stable at the edge of the pasture.

“What’s the last thing you remember about Thanos?” She asked, and he could see in his peripheral vision that she was watching him quite intently.

Loki did not falter in his belief that none of this was real, but he answered her question nonetheless, “I remember being choked… he killed me.”

Amelia nodded, looking as though she had very much expected the answer from him, and gave a soft sigh, appearing to steel herself before delivering a seemingly rehearsed line, “He didn’t kill you. You have perpetual amnesia”, she explained softly, “You can be fine for days, weeks, months even - and then suddenly, you’ll wake up and have no memory of anything that’s happened after the day you and Thor faced Thanos.”

Loki’s eyes twitched and he turned to her, his lips pursed with incredulity, but he said nothing, and Amelia took this as a prompt to continue.

“It was Banner’s idea to move out here, into a rural area where there’s less stress on your mind. It’s peaceful here, there’s no worries, no fears, no fighting. You often tell me that you enjoy the simplicity and the solitude”, she smiled lightly, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes, “It’s, um… been a while, since the last time your memory… reset itself. I think being out here helps, because you have longer bouts of lucidity between each episode of amnesia”, she murmured.

Loki took note of the way Amelia fidgeted with her fingers in her lap.

“It’s difficult”, Amelia blurted out with a nervous flutter in his voice, “Because every time is occurs, I have to explain everything that’s happened since, but… you’re not always willing to accept it.” She was clearly put off by his silence.

“Can you blame me?” Loki uttered defensively, and then snapped his mouth shut, unsure of why he had even responded to her exposition - it was as if a part of him had, without his consent, briefly entertained the idea that any of this was real.

Amelia frowned, raising her hand to nibble at her fingernail - something Loki knew she did whenever she was nervous or upset - and took an audible breath.

“It’s been five years, Loki. Since Thanos came”, she divulged guardedly, her eyes darting across his face to look for any signs of a reaction, and Loki blinked a few times fast.

Suddenly, the oddness of Amelia’s face made sense. _She looked older,_ her hair was longer, reaching her shoulders, wavy and unkempt as usual, and her eyes looked as though they had seen a lot more pain that he remembered. There were small signs of aging - a few more noticeable creases in her face below her eyes, deeper laugh lines forming between her nose and her mouth, a sprinkle of freckles on her lower cheeks as well as across the bridge of her nose.

“The last time your memory reset was about seven months ago… before Leif was born”, she spoke faintly, sadness in her gaze and the cadence of her voice, “I knew it was coming, but I was hoping that it would be a while longer before your memories were erased again.”

Loki shook his head, looking away from Amelia, “No, _no”,_ he argued, “This isn’t real, I know this isn’t real.” It bothered him that her explanation was beginning to make sense, that he had not yet detected anything - any holes in her story that would betray the illusion.

“It is real”, Amelia protested, forcing firmness into her voice, and immediately Loki rose from the bench, spinning around with a look of tempered rage as he thrust an accusatory finger at Amelia.

“You are _not_ real. This is a trick. _I won’t fall for it again”,_ he exclaimed.

“Loki-”

 _“No”,_ Loki interjected when Amelia stood to try and rush to convince him to reconsider, “no, this is- it’s not- it can’t be… I can’t just… _forget”,_ he pressed his fist to his mouth, biting his finger as his gaze darted around, trying to find a tear in reality, anything he could use to prove himself right, and Amelia grabbed his arm, holding onto him adamantly as she enforced her expression with pleading determination.

“Thanos did something to you- he used the Mind stone and it _changed_ something-”

Loki paused in his frantic intake of breath, stopping just short of screaming at Amelia to _get the Hel away from him,_ and absorbed her words- _Thanos used the Mind stone?_

He remembered. As he had fought for breath in the Mad Titan’s unyielding grip, the last thing that had flashed across his vision was a mysterious yellow glow - the same colour of the infinity stone Amelia was claiming had been used against him.

Loki pondered in his shock. There was truth to Amelia’s claim - he _remembered_ that, he had seen Thanos use the Mind stone with his own two eyes, but it had only just clicked in his mind. That _had_ happened.

He faced Amelia, perceiving the welling of tears above her lower eyelids, the pout of her lips, and her death-like grip on his arm. _This is real?_ He questioned himself, the enquiry buzzing around his head with urgency. Amelia was real. The cabin was real, the field and the forest were real, the plants were real, _the baby was real?_

_It’s real._

Amelia smiled tearfully, and Loki took a second to comprehend that he’d spoken that last thought out loud.

“Yes, Loki”, she confirmed, her solid grip on his arm softening to something more tender, “It’s real, we’re here together. This is our life”, her hand cupped his face, the touch offering comfort as his heart pumped vigorously following the revelation.

Loki relented to the reality, finding that it was all too easy to accept.

Amelia gave a benevolent smile, “Would you like to meet your son?”

“M-my son?” the words stuttered out of his mouth at the same moment it dawned on him that he was a father, that he and Amelia had had a child together, and he didn’t quite know how to articulate his wildly whirring thoughts. A noise of mild shock escaped his mouth in the form of a bewildered, floundering whimper.

Amelia’s face took the expression of sympathetic understanding, nodding her head faintly, “Yep… you’re a father”, she grinned, biting her tongue between her teeth, “Congratulations.”

Loki did not move on his own; it took a tender nudge at the small of his back for Amelia to begin guiding him back into the cosy house, and he found himself growing more nervous with each step. He felt as though he was floating in a surreal bubble, unable to calm the pulsing heart in his chest, his feet moving of their own accord as Amelia led him back into the nursery room where the baby was currently snoozing.

“His name is Leif”, Amelia warmly informed, “...and he’s five months old, he loves to eat and sleep, and he can be _real_ squirmy when he wants to be”, she finished with a beam as Loki peered down into the cot, spotting the placid, little infant who was still securely swaddled in his fuzzy blanket.

Small face, chubby cheeks, tiny nose, thin lips, with eyes peacefully shut as the baby slept, precious and blissfully unaware of the world around him. Loki could see small tufts of dark hair curling over the baby’s forehead, and his immediate instinct was to reach down and brush his thumb across the infant’s cheek, to check that his skin was as soft as it looked, but he paused and retracted his hand.

“Go on”, Amelia encouraged him, “Pick him up and hold him.”

“But he’s sleeping. Won’t he cry if he wakes?” Loki murmured, and Amelia let out a quiet giggle.

“It’s okay, he rarely cries when you hold him”, she coaxed, rubbing a hand over Loki’s upper arm, and Loki blinked, looking vaguely unsure of himself, before he reached into the cot and lifted his child to cradle him against his chest.

The baby stirred, his little face scrunching up slightly before he let out a yawn, and his eyes fluttered open, revealing bright, green irises, wide and innocent as he absorbed the world, and his father’s face.

Loki was sure his hands were shaking, but he held the baby firmly, refusing to let the tremor in his muscles weaken his protective hold on the little life in his arms, and drew in an unsteady breath as he took in every tiny, adoring detail of his child’s drowsy face. He brought his thumb up, lightly trailing over the soft hairs on Leif’s head, over the baby’s forehead and down the side of his face, gingerly poking his round, pudgy cheeks to find that, _yes,_ they were as soft as he had thought.

A sparse smile formed on Loki’s lips as Leif wriggled until his tiny arm was free from the wrap of the blanket, and the baby’s small fingers curled around his thumb, holding tightly, refusing to let go.

* * *

“Amelia, you need to get some rest.”

Amelia swallowed hard, delivering to Bruce what she _thought_ was a look of hostility, but was most likely closer to groggy wince as she sulked in her chair, hugging her knees to her chest.

“Stop telling me that, I’m _fine.”_ She argued, the build of frustration in her chest bubbling into irritation - if anyone tried to tell her she needed to rest _one more time,_ she would throw something across the goddamn room, preferably aimed at the one trying to dictate how she should take care of herself.

“You’re not fine”, Bruce calmly stated, scanning over the reports that revealed no notable changes in Loki’s brain activity, “You’re minutes from keeling over. I’m a doctor, I know what a healthy human being looks like and you do not fit the bill.” He sighed as Amelia grumpily turned away from him. “I’m telling you this as your friend, you need to leave Loki’s side and get some sleep- _proper sleep,_ and some actual food. Maybe a little air. You’ve barely left this room in a month and it’s taking a toll on your body.”

Amelia shook her head, electing to ignore his advice, “Fuck you.”

Bruce did not show any exasperation over Amelia’s behaviour - he was a patient and empathetic man, he knew of Amelia’s self-destructive tendencies and her troubles of coping with stressful situations, and he could only let it brew for so much longer before he insisted on stepping in.

“If you don’t open your eyes and see what you’re doing to yourself, I will revoke your access to this room”, Bruce coolly declared, knowing there was an unfortunate harshness to his words that he couldn’t quite remove, but he was doing it for Amelia’s own good. Amelia’s health had begun to deteriorate faster than Loki’s, and something needed to be done about it.

Amelia’s fists clenched, and she stared hard at the floor, as if trying to burn holes into it, but said nothing.

“Think about what I’m telling you, okay?” Bruce remarked before placing down the brain-activity reports, and made his way out of the infirmary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you see any grammar/spelling errors then don't hesitate to point them out to me!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. There will not be fun times for Loki in the next one :)
> 
> As always, thank you all so much for your continued support. You're all incredibly wonderful and I love to read your comments <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.......
> 
> It's been a while, huh?
> 
> First off, I just wanna say... I am SO SORRY for leaving you all hanging for like three months. I AM AWFUL, I know, and I feel so guilty about it too. Here's basically what happened - I was having anxiety problems back in June, and I've always had anxiety but it got like PARTICULARLY bad, so I was having a hard time and as a result, my fixation for The Avengers kind of dwindled a bit, which made it incredibly difficult to write for this story. I saw a doctor and was prescribed medication, and then I developed a fixation for a different fandom and started writing for that BUT I had a seriously bad reaction to the meds I was prescribed and had an awful few weeks where I was really ill. My love for The Avengers is slowly returning, I just rewatched Infinity War again the other day and it reminded me that I had a promise to fulfil..... to fix that goddamn awful shit-ass movie (I loved it really) so here I am, with the next chapter, hoping I still have all the characterisation in check...
> 
> ;_; If anyone is still here and willing to read... love you guys.

Amelia walked aimlessly through the halls of the Avengers Tower, a hollow sense of futility dampening her mind, making everything seem like a hazy bad dream, but she knew it was all real - a nightmare she couldn’t shake. It clung to her like a black cloud, consuming any hint of happiness and hope, leaving despair in its wake.

 

There was dull ache behind her left eye, pulsing slowly and causing her to stop every few steps, steadying herself with a hand on the wall - she shouldn’t have left Loki’s room, but Thor had convinced her to take a walk and stretch her legs, ensuring her that he would remain in Loki’s room until she returned, and that if by some miracle the God of Mischief was to awaken in that brief period - not that there was a high probability of that happening - she would be immediately notified.

 

To say that Amelia had completely given up hope would have been a lie - there was a scrap, a tiny fragment of optimism that still endured within her heart, but it was weak and fragile and wasting away by the day. Her physical condition was similarly not faring well, muscles aching with every forced movement, her neck and shoulders protesting at her posture after she’d spent so long curled up and slumped over in the chair by Loki’s bedside.

 

She was thirsty, the uncomfortable itch in her throat was bothering her, adding a slight rasp to every breath she took, so Amelia made her way slowly to the main lounge, hoping it was vacant so she could sneak through to the kitchen and fetch herself a drink without having to face any of the other Avengers.

 

It was too much to ask that the living quarters would be empty at six o’clock in the evening, and it was especially jarring given that there were several familiar faces present that she had not yet met personally. Following the battle against Thanos, a few of the original Avengers had returned, coming out of hiding to resume their duties in protecting the planet from further harm - and the general populace welcomed them back with open arms, glad to have a stronger lineup of superheroes keeping them safe. It heightened morale, and those of the team who had initially been pinned as criminals after the events of Sokovia were now absolved.

 

Thanos’s short reign of terror on the planet had mended the relationships of Earth’s heroes, sparking cheer from the public. Steve Rogers was back, his friendship with Tony Stark slowly but steadily healing, and it seemed that the world was stronger than it ever had been before, but Amelia could not find it in herself to rejoice. She wouldn’t feel contentment until Loki opened his eyes again.

 

“Hey kid, how you doing?” Tony spoke up when he noticed that she was frozen at the entrance to the room, and Amelia flinched when everyone present turned their curious gazes on her. 

 

She recognised Steve Rogers, Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff, but the few others sitting around in the leisure area were not people she could match with a name - she had seen some of them on the field in Wakanda briefly, but had not spoken to them, and others she had caught glimpses of the few rare times she had left Loki’s room, but had shuffled away quickly, not willing to interact with them when she was in such a state.

 

Amelia didn’t have the energy to speak, so she shook her head, waving her hand in a noncommittal gesture that she hoped conveyed that she wasn’t in a good state to sit and talk right now, and quickly averted her gaze from the eyes of the others, moving unsteadily towards the kitchen to peer into the fridge.

 

She didn’t like how quiet the room was, knowing it was most certainly because the gathering of Earth’s heroes were evidently curious about her presence; Amelia had hoped they would wait until she was out of the room before voicing their questions, but as she reached for a bottle of orange juice, the sound of a voice trying and failing to be quiet enough reached her ears.

 

“Who is she, Stark?” 

 

Amelia wasn’t entirely sure, but it sounded like Natasha had spoken. She kept exceptionally still, trying to make it look as though she was still just gazing into the fridge thoughtfully in search of a snack, but was in fact listening keenly for Tony’s reply to the uttered enquiry; the CEO didn’t immediately respond, and for a while Amelia believed he wasn’t going to, but before she could close the fridge door and head on her way back to the infirmary, the billionaire softly spoke up.

 

“She’s Loki’s girl.”

 

It made Amelia’s shoulders tense up, because to the people clustered together in the room, Loki was still more or less a villain; they had not seen or spoken to the Asgardian since the day of the Chitauri invasion - they didn’t know how he had changed and they did not care that he was wasting away in a coma.

 

“Loki’s got a girlfriend? Now I’ve heard it all.”

 

It was undeniably Steve Rogers who spoke, and while his remark may have seemed harmless in his own mind, it made Amelia’s teeth grate together uncomfortably. She wanted to spin round and tell him  _ ‘go fuck yourself’,  _ but Amelia didn’t even have the strength to speak let alone confront and curse out a man she found vastly intimidating - in fact, she found  _ all  _ the other Avengers that she hadn’t met to be somewhat unnerving, and Amelia definitely wouldn’t try her hand at yelling any of them down - besides, she’d likely burst into tears halfway through the exclamation and make an absolute fool of herself.

 

Instead, she took her bottle of juice, slammed the fridge door shut - probably spilling something inside in the process if the proceeding crash from within was any indication - and marched from the room as menacingly as she could while walking on shaky legs.

 

* * *

 

Amelia swayed in place as the elevator rose to the infirmary floor, the cold surroundings of the metal vessel seeming to swirl and distort around her. She took deep breaths to try and steel herself, attempting to blink away the wrongness in her vision to no avail - it was no good, she needed to lie down to dispel this unnerving, dizzying affliction.

 

The infirmary wasn’t far off, she could make it if she pushed herself.

 

Clutching the bottle of juice in one hand, Amelia stumbled out of the elevator when the doors rolled open and immediately slammed her other hand against the wall to right herself - she leaned against it for a few minutes, trying to remember exactly which way her destination was; funny, she had been there so often the past month and a half that she should have known the corridors like the back of her hand, but the whorls in her vision managed to obliterate her orientation, and she found herself not knowing up from down.

 

She knelt on the floor, rubbing harshly at her eyes, and gave a grunt of irritation when the warping shapes before her only doubled in their deformation.  _ It was a migraine.  _ Obscenities rushed through her mind at her predicament - there was no time for this, dawdling on the floor when she could’ve been sat by Loki’s bedside and deliberating on all the possible things she could do to try and wake him up.

 

The light-headedness did not subside; Amelia shook her head briefly as though it would help -  _ fucking christ,  _ she thought,  _ this is worse than any hangover I’ve ever had  _ \- and as if to prove her point, the malformed images in her sight began to  _ ache,  _ forming a horrible ball of pressure behind her eyes that felt as though it was beginning to grow - far bigger than her skull could handle. 

 

As if that wasn’t enough, her stomach began to bubble with the need to expel its contents - too bad there was nothing  _ in  _ her belly to start with. 

 

_ This is fucking awful,  _ she thought, wanting very much to lie down and pass out on the floor, but she knew she couldn’t. Instead, she pushed herself back up, head bowed with pain and stomach protesting vividly, and squinted down the corridor, her gaze fluttering over the  _ ‘Infirmary’  _ sign on the wall beside a familiar door. Now she just needed to  _ get  _ there.

 

_ Why are these lights so fucking bright? _

 

Amelia threw her arm over her eyes in an effort to stop the light from piercing through her retinas, but it didn’t seem to do her any favours as she hobbled forward, hand running blindly across the wall to gain some leverage and stabilise herself if need be. Through the power of determination alone, she found herself in front of the door, and pressed her hand to the access panel, waiting for the green light to appear and declare the door unlocked.

 

No such thing happened. Instead, she was greeted with a red light and a few cruel words,  _ ‘access denied’.  _ Amelia tried again - surely there was just an error in the mainframe of whatever the fuck the terminology was; she didn’t care, she just wanted in, but the door revealed the same conclusion.

 

_ What the fuck? _

 

Amelia banged her fist against the door. “Thor? Thor, it’s me. Lemme in?” She slurred, her head pounding as she called out, hoping the God of Thunder could hear through the thick walls; she rapped again, and again, yelling louder with each angry knock.

 

“Thor!”

 

The sound of a click resonated in Amelia’s mind and the door quickly flew open, revealing the very person she had been shouting for - his face was grim and Amelia felt a shudder of dread ripple through her, shaking her head. “Let me in”, she ordered when Thor didn’t promptly step aside, “Thor, let- let me see Loki.” Incredulity broke through Amelia’s voice as Thor’s gaze fell and a soft sigh breezed past his lips.

 

“I’m sorry, Amelia, but you can’t see him. Not until you learn to look after yourself again.”

 

The words didn’t register right away - Amelia heard the stern but apologetic tone before she actually computed what he had said, at which point the pain in her skull seemed to increase twofold and her head bowed again, hand rushing up to pinch her nose. 

 

“Amelia, are you-”

 

“What the  _ fuck  _ are you saying!?” Amelia snapped, despite the physical agony that ensued, her dark brown eyes affixing Thor with a murderous look, but the God of Thunder did not appear at all intimidated.

 

“Look at you. You’re slowly killing yourself. Do you think that’s what Loki would want?” Thor’s stare hardened as he looked back at her challengingly, “Do you think Loki will want to see you like this when he wakes?”

 

Amelia drew a sharp breath in through her nose, her rage palpable as she pursed her lips, “It doesn’t fucking  _ matter  _ what Loki wants, he’s in a  _ fucking coma”,  _ Amelia hissed, before squeezing her eyes shut tightly as the bright white of the infirmary walls attacked her vision; she couldn’t see Loki from this angle - if only Thor could just move out of the goddamn way.

 

Thor grabbed her arms when she moved to push past him, “No, you’re going back to your own room and you’re going to sleep.”

 

“Get your hands off me”, Amelia tried to shout, but it came out as a pitiful whine, her attempts at pulling away from Thor appearing more like a newborn puppy trying to escape a secure clasp, “Don’t do this… don’t…” She was crying, the pain in her head and the pain of being denied entry to Loki’s room truly dug deep into her heart, causing more than enough distress.

 

“I’m not doing this to hurt you, Amelia”, Thor stated in a contrite tone, and Amelia abruptly yelped as the God of Thunder hoisted her up over his shoulder and began carrying her away, back towards the elevator that would lead to her room.

 

“No, no!  _ Thor!  _ Put me down!” She cried, kicking and squirming as best she could as the door to the infirmary grew further and further away; her heart pumped hard, making her head pound even more violently than it had been, and an irrational flutter of panic filled her mind, “Loki!  _ Loki!”  _ She cried,  _ “Loki, help me!”  _ Amelia coughed and choked on her tears, and Thor met her struggles with a firmer grip, refusing to let her wriggle out of his hold.

 

By the time they reached the hallway that led to Amelia’s room, Thor was more than surprised by her resolution, finding that she was only then beginning to wilt and surrender her grappling, the despairing noises from her mouth more like quiet crying at that point, and he gave a strong sigh, not untroubled by his actions, but aware that it had to be done.

 

“You will sleep, eat and drink. After you wash yourself tomorrow morning, you can see him again”, Thor declared gently. Amelia did not respond, slumped over the God’s shoulder like a sack of heavy potatoes, and if it wasn’t for the frequent hiccups and sharp inhales reverberating in his ears, Thor would have assumed she’d passed out.

 

Upon entering Amelia’s room, Thor placed her down on the bed, pulling back the cover and setting it up to her shoulders; Amelia did not protest, she merely stared at the ceiling, brow furrowed from the pain in her head, the salty tear tracks drying on her face.

 

“I’ll have a meal brought to your room”, Thor spoke, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, “Try and eat as much as you can. Does your head hurt?”

 

Amelia’s eyes slipped shut and she nodded slowly, to which Thor gave a low hum of acknowledgement, “I will inform Banner, he may bring you something for it.”

 

The God was met with silence, and once again his face fell, understanding of the dejection and sorrow Amelia was feeling, “I’m sorry for this, Amelia…” He didn’t expect an answer and he didn’t get one, so he rose up from the bed and paced towards the door, stopping short when he heard the woman’s soft, pained voice breaking through the quietness.

 

“He’s not going to wake up.” 

 

It was no louder than a whisper, but her words felt far too loud in the soundless room, Thor tried not to clench his fist on the door handle, for his strength would surely shatter it. Amelia’s assertion was bathed in anguish - she believed what she said, but she didn’t want to - and it pulled at Thor’s heartstrings. Loki had been in a coma for a month and a half with no change in brain activity, there was nothing Banner could  _ do  _ to try and wake him, and Thor was actually beginning to miss his little brother’s infuriating, mischievous tricks.

 

He did not know whether Loki was going to wake up, but he knew he couldn’t let Amelia lose faith.

 

“He will wake up”, Thor responded purposively, hesitating only a few moments more before leaving the room and closing the door softly behind him.

 

Amelia rolled over, squeezing her eyes shut to put a halt to the tears trying to strain through, and breathed deeply in an attempt to control her misery. At least if she could fall asleep, she wouldn’t be conscious to experience the emptiness in her soul.

 

Loki’s pillow still retained a remnant of his scent, and Amelia was reminded of the nights they spent in each other’s arms before Thanos came to Earth and brought a world of agony and suffering along with him. She missed the nights  _ before. _

 

She fell asleep with the seeds of a burrowing thought in her mind, an idea - one last thing she could try to rouse Loki from his heavy, unremitting slumber.

 

_ Primrose, lotus, tulips, buttercups, daisies,  _ **_white clematis._ **

 

The scent of vanilla.

 

* * *

 

Loki roused suddenly from his light doze, regaining consciousness with a full-body jolt, and proceeded to sit upright on the couch upon which he had almost fallen asleep. “Amelia?” He asked aloud to the room, a touch of urgency in his voice as his hand came automatically to rest on his chest - the place where he had last seen his infant son. 

 

Except Leif was gone.

 

Loki’s heart thumped hard in his chest with abrupt alarm at the baby’s disappearance, until a quiet voice cut through his fears.

 

“Yes? I’m over here”, Amelia called from behind him, and Loki peered over the back of the couch to find her sat by the small cot at the other side of the room. She smiled when she identified the trepidation on his face, “Leif’s fine, he’s sleeping”, she motioned the tiny baby bed beside her.

 

Loki’s apprehension melted away for a moment before returning steadily as he remembered just why he’d woken up in the first place, “Are you alright?” he asked cautiously, turning his head to scan the room for any signs of immediate danger, but nothing presented itself as a threat.

 

“Yeah, I’m fine”, Amelia responded softly, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

 

Loki paused, deliberating for a moment, “I thought I heard you calling for me.”

 

Amelia cocked her head before shaking it, “Mmm, nope. Didn’t call for you.”

 

“You called for help”, Loki had been sure of it - he’d heard the voice of his lover, as plain as day, crying out in distress, crying out for  _ him. _

 

Again, Amelia denied it. “Must’ve been a dream, darling.”

 

The thought pestered him for only a few moments more before he let it go - Amelia was right, it had probably just been the faraway remnants of a dream, nothing to concern himself with; Loki sunk back down against the couch with a sigh, stretching his legs over the armrest with a groan. He hadn’t gotten a proper workout since - well, he literally didn’t remember the last time. It had been three weeks since he’d found himself in this dainty little cottage, far away from anywhere suburban, and he’d spent the whole time trying to relearn everything he’d forgotten in the five years it had been since Thanos’s defeat, and at the same time he’d been acquainting himself with Leif, still struggling to accept the reality that he was a father.

 

But Loki craved a good fight, a simple spar session with his brother,  _ anything  _ to give his body some exercise - it wasn’t enough to sprint around the fields or practise his combat alone, he needed a training partner, though Thor had yet to visit. 

 

Without the frequent stimulation of battle, Loki just felt…  _ bored.  _ If he couldn’t keep his skills honed, what was he supposed to do when something disagreeable  _ did  _ come to interrupt the peace and threaten the lives of his loved ones? His magic felt oddly like it had been dwindling, as though the lack of practise was causing it to waste away, and it had Loki feeling more than a little antsy.

 

“What’s on your mind, Loki?” 

 

Loki slipped his eyes open, not knowing quite when they had fallen shut, and found Amelia leaning over the back of the couch, resting her chin in her palm with a warm smile on her face. He shrugged his shoulders, shaking his head dismissively, “It’s nothing.”

 

“Come on, Loki”, Amelia urged, not unkindly, “If something’s bothering you, I’d like to know what it is.”

 

The God of Mischief felt irritation slither down his spine and he shook his head again, “I don’t  _ know  _ what’s bothering me. Something just feels off.” He hadn’t meant to snap, but Amelia did not seem troubled by the way he raised his voice; she circled round the couch and knelt beside him, leaning forward to give him a peck on the cheek.

 

“It takes some time for you to get back into the swing of things after you, you know…  _ forget.  _ I’m sure you’ll be feeling fine next week”, Amelia smiled before a shiver rippled through her, “Ooh. It’s cold in here… I’ll get a fire going.” She crossed the room, turning her attention to the fireplace sitting innocuously in the corner, grabbing a log of firewood from the now-empty basket and the box of matches from the mantel.

 

Loki sighed, dragging himself off of the sofa and onto his feet. He walked around the couch and stepped slowly up to the cot where his six month old son slept soothingly, not a worry in the world - Loki was thankful at least that Amelia and Leif were safe in their home, nothing could hurt them while he was here with them.

 

The baby was so small and defenseless, Loki noted, as he tilted his head down to observe his son’s sleeping form, all curled up and unaware in a bundle of blankets - warm, guarded, fully reliant on Amelia and himself to see to his needs. As soon as the child was old enough to walk and talk, Loki was going to teach him not only to defend himself, but how to  _ really  _ fight, magic lessons included.

 

Leif wriggled slightly in his swaddled bundle, his little mouth twitching as his dreams disturbed his restful sleep, and Loki reached down, gently brushing the back of his knuckles over the baby’s tiny soft cheeks as a comfort. A quiet noise escaped the infant’s throat and Loki smiled.

 

“Looks like it’s gonna rain tonight”, Amelia’s voice drew Loki’s attention away from the baby, and he turned to see her peering thoughtfully out the window, “Could you perhaps pick up some firewood for me while it’s still light outside?” Loki glanced back down at the infant now sleeping more soundly and nodded his head.

 

“Yes. Of course”, he affirmed, “I’ll do that now.”

 

Amelia smiled brightly, “Thanks - I’ll get dinner started. Hurry back, love!” She seemed chipper all of a sudden, but it was nothing new for Amelia - she did always have the tendency to become excessively smiley out of nowhere; Loki let out a huff of amusement and stepped out of the living room as Amelia grabbed the fire iron to prod at the blackening logs in the fireplace.

 

He exited the house through the backdoor and made his way through the cultivated garden, passing by the plots of soil where vegetables were continuing to grow, between the flower patches where the blooms were colourful and vibrant, and towards the forest. The wood-chopping block sat past the outskirts of the woods, a few minutes walk for Loki’s fast pace, and he turned his gaze skyward, feeling the humidity in the cool air.

 

Loki could smell the approaching storm, he knew the scent well - after growing up with  _ Thor  _ it was difficult to ignore - he could almost sense the looming electricity in the air. The God of Mischief frowned; the static sensation brought with it an unusual feeling of dread prickling his awareness - it was best he collected the logs of firewood and returned to the cabin swiftly.

 

He settled on a hasty jog, reaching the wood-chopping site in less than a minute; Loki grabbed an armful of pre-chopped logs and promptly halted, keeping as still as he could while straining his ears to listen amongst his surroundings. He could’ve sworn he heard something, or felt something - some sort of presence, a whisper on the wind, just the subtlest of hints that he was not alone in the forest.

 

_ “Loki.” _

 

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as he turned abruptly in the direction he heard his name spoken.

 

“Who’s there?” Loki asked sharply, letting the logs slip from his arms in favour of readying himself for a potential fight; he stood quietly for several minutes, waiting for another sound to drift on the wind, until his name was spoken once again.

 

_ “Loki…” _

 

He hadn’t imagined it, then. The voice sounded closer and all too familiar.

 

“Thor?” Loki queried aloud, stepping cautiously through the parting of trees that led deeper into the forest; he followed the voice even as the wind pushed against him, as though nature did not want him to pursue it, “Brother?”

 

Loki stopped suddenly, eyes falling to his feet. Before him was a large gap - a ravine of sorts that perforated the ground, and as he looked over the edge, Loki found that he could not clearly see the bottom. He stepped back, staring down with incredulity -  _ why was this here, so close to the cabin?  _ \- and images flashed through his mind, visions of Amelia or Leif falling down into the dark abyss below.

 

He shook his head, forcing the thoughts from his mind, and glanced up to establish the length of the narrow gorge, looking left then right, and his attention affixed a short way away when he spotted an old and decrepit bridge that looked as though it had been there for centuries.

 

Approaching it heedfully, Loki gazed down at the rotting wooden panels that were supposed to act as a  _ safe  _ way across to the other side, but he had the feeling that any amount of pressure would send it crumbling into the bottomless chasm.

 

The wind had picked up, blowing heavily towards him as if urging him back, away from the canyon, but he stood his ground, watching the small, rickety rope-bridge sway from side to side.

 

“Loki.”

 

Loki looked up. Thor stood across from him on the other side of the gorge, his face neutral and unreadable - he didn’t particularly seem happy to see him.

 

“Brother”, Loki greeted warily, taking note of the sensation running through him that told him there was something not quite right about everything that was going on. “It’s been a while”, the God of Mischief continued conversationally, watching the other’s expression closely, “...I think.”

 

Thor did not respond with the same casual attitude - instead, his jaw set tightly and he spoke with grim determination, “You need to wake, brother.”

 

Loki’s gaze narrowed at the cryptic words - he had no time for games or riddles, “I  _ am  _ awake, what are you talking about?” His tone was admonishing and lacking in patience, “Why are you here? Does the Earth need saving again?” He quipped, quirking an eyebrow up in jest.

 

“This is serious, Loki. Don’t you think you’ve slept long enough?”

 

Thor was not making sense, and something about his appearance felt surreal, “What are you on about, you oaf?” Loki snarled, he was beginning to think this wasn’t  _ really  _ his brother standing before him.

 

The supposed God of Thunder reached out a hand, trying to urge Loki to cross the bridge, “You  _ need  _ to wake up, Loki. Come with me. Come  _ back.”  _ Loki shook his head, teeth gritting together as he pinned Thor with a dubious look. This was… a hallucination - it had to be - this wasn’t the real Thor; his brother was an oaf but he wasn’t  _ completely  _ dense, and he certainly wasn’t one to talk in riddles. Thor always said what he meant, which was generally the reason why he was always picking fights when they were younger.

 

“Loki,  _ please.  _ Amelia needs you.”

 

Loki’s jaw clenched.

 

“Amelia is fine”, he glanced over his shoulder in the direction he knew his home was, spying the dark clouds looming overhead through the yellowing leaves on the trees, “She’s-”

 

_ Those weren’t rain clouds. _

 

Loki felt his blood run cold at the sight of billowing smoke rising into the sky, so much more prominent than the overcast atmosphere; he didn’t spar Thor another glance, launching immediately into a sprint back towards the cabin, ignoring the calls of his brother’s voice echoing throughout the woods behind him. He moved with intense speed, zipping through the trees until he came to the edge of the forest and was greeted with a vision that felt like several ruthless stabs to the chest.

 

The cabin was burning, flames dancing upon the wood in bright yellows, reds and whites, there was not a single spot that wasn’t engulfed in cruel, ravenous fire, and Amelia was nowhere in sight, which meant she must have still been inside with Leif. The only thought that assaulted Loki’s mind was to bound into the blazing house and get them  _ out. _

 

He kicked down the door, the torrid heat taking effect almost immediately and searing through him as he covered his nose and mouth, squinting hard through the glowing corridor as it crackled and creaked, ignoring the blistering pain that began to invade his body. He climbed over fallen beams and smouldering dregs, staggering towards the living room where the fire had consumed everything - the cot was enveloped in roaring flames, if Leif had been in there, it was too late to save him.

 

A strangled sound tore from Loki’s throat, the pain of loss in his chest overwhelming, and he fell to his knees, eyes and lungs stinging as everything around him crumbled, the heat growing immensely. His skin was blistering, and a fleeting thought urged him to crawl towards the kitchen where he might find Amelia - perhaps he could still save  _ her. _

 

_ “Amelia!”  _ Loki tried to shout, but the endlessly loud fizzle around him made it impossible to hear any sort of response back; he dragged himself onwards nonetheless, sheer resolution pushing him to find his lover among the fiery wreckage that was their home. Something crackled loudly above, and Loki was promptly buried below a pile of sweltering debris - the roof had caved in above, trapping him in place.

 

He called out again for Amelia, trying desperately to glimpse through the distorted air towards the kitchen, and in the corner of his eye he spotted a dark shape lying still on the floor. It was a body, a burnt corpse, skin charing black -  _ Amelia. _

 

Another broken scream lurched past Loki’s lips - an imploring plea that this was all just a bad dream - but the excruciating pain of his body being scorched in the flames was all too real, and it devoured him. He pressed his eyes shut tight, trying to shift and wriggle from the roasting prison, but no matter how much he tried, he could not free himself.

 

The sizzling hisses and sputters of breaking wood disappeared with a snap, but the heat and the agony remained, as did the pressure on his back. It wasn’t until he cracked an eye open that he realised he was no longer in the same place - the world around him was dark and metallic, claustrophobic and broiling. He couldn’t move, he could hardly think, but one moment of clarity sparked recognition to his surroundings.

 

He knew where he was. He was on Thanos’s ship.

 

In the torture room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Real talk, I need motivation if I'm going to finish this fic, so to the people out there who still find enjoyment in this fic (despite the fact that it's been months), please drop me a comment so that I know how many people are still eager for me to update this. I think it'll definitely help things :)
> 
> Sorry again for such a long gap... <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> asdfghjkl
> 
> you guys. I love you all.
> 
> The response I got from the last chapter was INSANE and you are all so freakin' supportive. MAKIN' ME TEAR UP WITH YOUR LOVELY COMMENTS! <3 I was compelled to start writing the next chapter ASAP seeing how much you were all still on board with this fic. Thank you so much! <3 
> 
> You've all been incredibly patient and I just want to say - reading your comments makes me BEYOND happy :')

 

_ Excruciating. _

 

That was the only word Loki could use that described his current situation most accurately. At first, he’d tried to escape the burning pain searing across his skin, tried to use his magic to cool himself down, he’d even attempted to take on his Jotun form and release a blast of energy to freeze his surroundings, but the moment his skin had started to bleed into blue was the moment his pain had intensified tenfold.

 

There was no escape, Loki realised that now. He didn’t know how long it had been, or for how much longer he would have to endure the scalding hot temperature engulfing him. It seemed as though time was a concept that did not exist anymore - nothing changed, the agony didn’t lessen, there was nothing but the constant scorching feeling and the continuous sound of the screams tearing from his throat.

 

He’d been suffocating for far too long. He should’ve been dead. In fact, his body should have been a desiccated corpse by now after what felt like an eternity of the unremitting heat torture Thanos was subjecting him to.

 

No matter how many times he felt as though he was seconds from unconsciousness, there always seemed to be one more breath of oxygen that forced him back to the cruel reality in which he was not going to be allowed a single moment of rest. Thanos was not that kind.

 

Loki had expected his throat to give, for his voice to break - until the noise of his distressed shrieks were replaced with silent cries, and nothing but the frantic sound of his fists pounding against the metallic floor could be heard. He wondered if Thanos was enjoying the show, somehow watching him squirm as he tried to crawl across the floor away from the burning onslaught that he could never seem to flee from.

 

There were only two options. Loki could undergo his punishment until Thanos grew bored and decided to kill him, or he could beg for death now and end his suffering more quickly. Then again, if it was true that he was already dead and this was all just Hel’s way of making him pay for his mischievous direction in life, would there ever be a respite for him?  _ It wasn’t looking likely. _

 

Loki coughed and sputtered as he tried to push himself up off the scalding floor, his arms shaking with the strain of exerting himself, and he drew in a breath that made his lungs burn, cooking him from the inside out.

 

He wished for an end - an end to his apparent perdition. He’d endured enough, his body was screaming from him to swallow his pride and beg whatever entity was doing this to him for forgiveness; the pain was too much, he could hardly think,  _ it was consuming him.  _ All that was rushing through his mind was the question of when this ordeal would end - if ever - and somewhere deeper within, he felt the way his heart ached over the fact that he’d been tricked into believing he had a slowly growing family. It felt as though a piece of him was now missing. Leif never existed. He’d lost a son that had never lived and it hurt - he’d almost grown used to being a father.

 

Now there was just unbounded agony.

 

His elbows gave out and his body fell once again to the floor, the hissing sound of the heated metal searing his skin reaching his ears before the fresh wave of pain that it brought along with it; Loki choked out another hopeless shriek before biting back on what little self-respect he had left. To the empty room, he wheezed out an objection,  _ “Enough.” _

 

As soon the word left his lips in such a pitiful, imploring tone, Loki’s loathing for himself soared - rising higher over the realisation that he was  _ fucking pathetic.  _ But now that he’d broken through the barrier of his dignity, nothing was able to stop the rush of pleas that flooded from his mouth,  _ “Stop.  _ Please, just  _ stop.  _ What do you  _ want?” _

 

His voice was weak and barely legible, but it did not fall on deaf ears. The relentless heat retreated so suddenly, the dark room lighting up, and Loki’s eyes shut tight in defense as he took deep, steadying breaths while he was given the chance.

 

“Oh, Loki. What a plaintive, feeble sight you are.” 

 

Loki knew the voice of the Mad Titan - he doubted he could ever forget it, and it sent the same harrowing chill down his spine that it always had, trying to force him to remember his place, trying to scare him into submission. The God of Mischief’s eyes squinted open and he gazed upon the  _ Genocidal Maniac  _ with resentment and caution, but said nothing.

 

Thanos’s wretched mouth curved into a sickening smile, “Don’t stop begging now that I’ve turned up to listen”, he goaded, flexing the fingers in his infinity gauntlet, which shone with the glimmering colours of all six stones. Loki stared hard at the Titan despite how much his body tried to persuade him to break eye contact - if it wasn’t for the fact that his mouth was completely dried out, the God of Mischief would have spat at his feet.

 

“Go on”, the Mad Titan urged, “You were saying?”

 

“What do you want?” Loki parroted his earlier question, only just managing to choke out the words from his still very aching throat.

 

“To watch you suffer for opposing me”, Thanos answered coolly, “and to watch you break again, until you’re too afraid to disobey me.”

 

Despite himself, Loki coughed out a chuckle, a sardonic smile pulling at his lips, “Well you’re going to be waiting a long time. I’d sooner die than align with you again.”

 

“Is that so?” Thanos smirked, amusement palpable in his menacing eyes, “I’m sure you can be coerced, your will is far too weak”, the insult escaped his mouth like hissing steam. “What do you think Amelia is up to these days?”

 

The turn of subject was like whiplash, but it more than solidified the idea that this was all just a product of Hel. Thanos did not know about Amelia, or her connection with Loki, so it stood to reason that this was not the  _ real  _ Thanos - Hel just wanted him to  _ think  _ it was, so that his torture could work more efficiently.

 

Wherever the real Amelia was, Loki hoped she was safe.

 

“Oh, I’m sure she’s safe”, Thanos jeered, and Loki caught himself before he could flinch, immediately enraged that he could not have even his mind to himself; he wasn’t given the chance to demand that the Titan stay out of his head before Thanos spoke again, “Safe and sound in your brother’s arms, perhaps?”

 

Whatever biting words had been about to leave Loki’s throat, they caught in silence, his lips opening and closing in shock, “What?”

 

“You don’t remember?”

 

The words Loki had spoken to his brother when they were on their way to Nidavellir echoed in the room around him,  _ ‘if anything happens to me when we face Thanos, promise me you will look after Amelia’,  _ and he grit his teeth tightly, detesting the very idea of what the Mad Titan was suggesting.

 

“You don’t think your brother took your words to heart, do you?” Thanos continued to taunt, “I’m sure without you, Amelia would get  _ very  _ lonely.”

 

Loki scoffed, “Amelia wouldn’t do that.”

 

“Wouldn’t she?”

 

“I know what you’re trying to do”, Loki sneered, “It’s not working.”

 

“Isn’t it?”

 

_ “Just shut the fuck up!”  _ Loki snapped; he wished he knew why his magic was so stagnant - if he wasn’t so listless and unenergetic, he would have launched himself at the Titan and thrown every punch he could, even knowing that Hel’s influence on him was far too strong to overcome.

 

Thanos laughed - a disgusting, abhorrent sound that made Loki’s skin crawl - and looked down at his gauntlet, giving his fingers a flex before the space stone shone bright, forcing Loki to shut his eyes again in protection against the harsh light.

 

When he opened them, Amelia stood beside Thanos, her arms cradled around herself as she shook with fear, and the Mad Titan laid a large hand on her shoulder, causing her to tense up even more than she was already. Her cheeks were pale, her eyes wide as she stared down at him, and the look on her face told Loki she wanted nothing more than to break free from Thanos’s hold and go to him.

 

Loki had to remind himself that this was not really Amelia, no matter how accurate her appearance and mannerisms appeared to be - it was  _ not  _ Amelia. There was no way he would foolishly fall victim to Hel’s illusions for a  _ third  _ time, he would not allow himself to even entertain the possibility that the real Amelia was stood before him, terrified and frozen in Thanos’s evil clutches.

 

“Let’s make a deal, Loki - you like compromising, right?” Thanos began, casting his gaze down at Amelia as she tried to shrink out of his grasp. The titan’s huge hand closed around her head and she once again grew rigid as he forced her to look ahead, her eyes on Loki, “If you do one  _ tiny _ thing for me, I’ll cease your torture without hesitation”, he smiled, giving his gloved hand a wave and conjuring forth a sharp, jagged blade, which he then held out for Loki to take, “Take this dagger and plunge it into Amelia’s heart.”

 

Amelia inhaled a shuddering breath, her hands grabbing at Thanos’s giant fingers in an effort to try and free herself - to no avail. Loki set his sights on the small weapon Thanos was offering him, the shiny and reflective silver metal glinting ominously in the light, and pulled himself precariously to his unsteady feet, legs wobbling from the strain.

 

Loki took the blade, eyeing it with disdain before turning to Amelia, “I know this isn’t really her”, he spoke, watching as dread filtered into the woman’s warm, brown eyes, and she began to shake her head frantically.

 

“Loki…  _ it’s me, _ Loki, don’t- please, don’t-” She cried out sharply as Thanos’s grip around her head tightened, effectively silencing her, and Loki’s fingers strengthened around the hilt of the blade.

 

“Then you won’t have a problem with carrying out my request”, said the Mad Titan.

 

Tears escaped the corners of Amelia’s eyes, her sharp breaths evident of her fear; Loki could free himself from the torture - all he had to do was kill this imitation of his lover. His body was still stinging from the memory of the pain, and he wasn’t itching to experience it again.

 

Loki twirled the dagger in his hand and let out a sigh, before allowing it to slip from his fingers and clatter to the floor, “You won’t break me again, Thanos.” The last thing he saw was the bloom of hope that fluttered into Amelia’s eyes before he blinked and realised he was alone.

 

And then the heat reignited.

 

* * *

 

In her arms, Amelia cradled a small flower pot full of white clematis as she marched purposefully towards the Avengers Tower infirmary, holding the potted blooms closely like a prized possession. Her face was a mask of calm determination. She had showered when she awoke, washing away the oily buildup in her hair and on her skin till she smelled like roses and felt fresh -  _ approachable, even _ \- and the next thing she had done was work on rehydrating herself, drinking a few glasses of water over the duration of the morning to help cleanse the aches from her body. Finally, Amelia had made sure not to skip breakfast before heading up to the garden on the old helicopter pad, in search of Loki’s favourite flower.

 

Her steps echoed down the corridor as she walked, speeding up every few strides from the mix of anticipation and the desire to not run into anybody on the way to her destination - but it seemed fate was not on her side. Ahead of Amelia, the elevator doors opened and Steve Rogers stepped out.

 

The elevator was where Amelia needed to be, she couldn’t exactly turn and walk in a different direction, so she kept her head down, hoping she was displaying some very clear  _ ‘don’t talk to me’  _ vibes.

 

“Hey”, Steve spoke up just as they passed each other, and Amelia halted in place, shoulders tensing up slightly.  _ Of course Steve Rogers wouldn’t take a hint.  _ Amelia didn’t turn around, but she didn’t continue her pace either, so the Captain took that as a sign to keep talking. “I’m sorry about what I said yesterday in the living quarters. It wasn’t my intention to upset you.”

 

Amelia stayed quiet for a moment, not entirely trusting her voice to speak up to  _ Captain Goddamn America,  _ but managed to pull herself together a little, clearing her throat before murmuring, “Apology accepted.” Her hope was that that would satisfy Steve’s apparent desire for forgiveness, but the man continued to speak.

 

“Your name’s Amelia, right?” He enquired, and she nodded her head, still not facing the Avenger. “We haven’t been properly introduced. I’m Steve.”

 

Amelia swallowed, spying the man’s hand reaching out in her peripheral vision; Steve was going for a handshake, but to shake his hand would mean taking one hand off of the potted plant that needed to be moved  _ safely  _ to the medical wing, and she really didn’t trust herself not to drop it.

 

Instead, she nodded her head again awkwardly. “Nice to meet you”, she stated softly, and it wasn’t entirely untrue - Steve Rogers was a hero and had saved many people - but Amelia’s mind was wholly occupied with the importance of her mission to bring Loki back to the land of the living.

 

Steve’s hand lowered. “What’s with the plant?”

 

Amelia sniffed, glancing up slightly, and subconsciously tightened her grip on the object in question, “It’s for Loki. I’m gonna try and wake him up.”

 

The Captain’s eyebrows both quirked up, a spark of skepticism in his eyes that made Amelia want to march away from the man, but she stood her ground, the newfound glow of hope in her mind solidifying her nerve.

 

“You sure that’s a good idea?” Steve asked with excessive caution, perhaps in an attempt to refrain from offending her again.

 

Amelia’s lip trembled, but she rose her head nonetheless, “You’ve missed a lot. Loki’s a good guy now.” It was a simple statement and it got the point across; Amelia wasn’t interested in debating with the man or going into specifics at that moment, nor did she really care for any more of his doubtful remarks, so she diverted her attention back to the elevator and kept on moving, not even waiting for Steve’s response.

 

When she finally reached the infirmary after taking the lift down, Amelia’s gaze went to the handprint scanner which had rejected her the night before - she wasn’t an idiot, she knew there was little chance that Bruce had switched the system to grant her access again, so she knocked instead, waiting patiently for the mild man to open up.

 

It was Thor who answered though, unsurprisingly. He’d been spending more time recently in his brother’s hospital room, clearly growing more agitated and less like an excitable puppy the longer Loki was out of it; it wasn’t always apparent how much Loki and Thor truly cared for each other, but it was times like this which made it abundantly clear that they did. Amelia was sure if it had been the other way round, she would be able to read Loki’s worry like he was an open book.

 

The cynical look in Thor’s mismatched eyes was transparent when he saw her, but before he could send her back to her room and inform her that she needed more time away to rest, Amelia spoke up, “Let me just try  _ one _ thing, please, Thor”, she implored.

 

Thor seemed to struggle inwardly, sorrow and remorse settling in his expression, uncertain whether or not letting her in would be a positive development. Amelia knew he missed his brother, and she knew that she had been selfish, acting like she was the only one who was feeling grief at the God of Mischief’s absence. She wanted to see Thor happy again, wanted to see his bright and toothy grin light up an entire room, which was why she had to enter the infirmary.

 

Thor looked over his shoulder at Bruce, who was running his bi-weekly tests on Loki’s vitals and brain activity - coming up with no new data, as per usual - and the man took a glimpse at the door through his spectacles.

 

“Amelia…” Bruce began disapprovingly, and she swiftly cut him off.

 

“Please, Bruce, just give me five minutes. If nothing happens, I’ll leave”, Amelia promised, and after a few moments, the doctor conceded, nodding his head for Thor to let her through. “Thank you”, she added softly as she entered the room before setting her sights on her comatose lover.

 

She could really see the difference from how he once looked. His pale skin had an unhealthy grey tint to it, his cheekbones were sharper, owing to the fact that he’d lost a lot of weight and muscle mass. His hair was missing its natural sheen. He looked… cold.

 

Amelia took a steadying breath, trying to limit her hopefulness; she didn’t want to spiral down again like she already had, and she needed to approach this with the expectation that Loki could very well not wake up.

 

She placed the small potted plant on the bedside table and took a minute step back. While small, the bunch of clematis flowers gave off a very strong fragrance, so she saw no reason to move it any closer. Either her plan would work, or it wouldn’t.

 

She just needed to wait.

 

* * *

 

The lasting effect of the fiery heat was so prominent that Loki was hardly even aware when he pleaded for it to stop again. It took a while for him to realise that the burning had retreated, and he was being met with a discomfiting, biting cold instead, which had just as much a stinging effect on his now sensitised skin.

 

Thanos was back. _How long had it been? Days? Weeks?_ He was standing above him with a smug and knowing smile that made Loki’s skin crawl despite the damage to his nerves. Amelia was there too - _or,_ _well, not-Amelia,_ because Loki refused to let himself believe his eyes - looking just as afraid as she had the first time.

 

“You know what you have to do, Loki.” 

 

The dagger was offered yet again, and this time it took minutes for Loki to push himself up to his feet and keep a stable stance long enough to snatch the blade from the Mad Titan’s hand; Thanos chuckled, murmuring something about Loki’s forced display of boldness, but Loki paid him no mind, standing shakily in place as he regarded the artificial lookalike that was Amelia.

 

_ It wasn’t Amelia.  _ It was just a trick - an illusion. What did it matter if he thrust the dagger through her heart? It wasn’t as though the real Amelia would die - would even  _ know  _ any of this happened, right? And he’d be free from the violent torture he’d been subjected to for days or weeks or  _ however long it had been going on. _

 

It would be over quickly. Just one swift jab.

 

Loki peered at Amelia, seeing her eyes so full of fear. 

 

It was so obvious this was not  _ his  _ Amelia, because his Amelia should know that he would never intentionally hurt her, not even to save himself from an eternity of torture - she would know that he couldn’t even bring himself to cause harm to anything that took on her visage, even when he knew  _ it wasn’t her. _

 

But this Amelia before him cradled herself, her tremoring form so slight as she anticipated her imminent death.

 

Loki released a breath and chucked the blade over his shoulder, casting Thanos a weary look, “I  _ told  _ you Thanos…  _ you will not break me again.” _ And with that, his legs gave out below him and he fell forward into Amelia’s arms, which encircled him immediately, offering a  _ healing  _ warmth, and even though Loki knew it was not really her, he took what he could get, absorbing what little comfort she gave him while he could. The unrelenting pain would surely return soon.

 

Amelia cupped his face, her thumb brushing against his cheek with tenderness, and Loki peeked up at her through tired eyes, finding that her face sported a small smile even as tears trailed from her eyes.

 

“We’ll get through this”, she whispered, “I won’t give up on you.”

 

Loki’s lips parted in confusion, “What are you talking about?”

 

“It’s okay, Loki”, her words were soft, lulling even, “This is all just a bad dream.”

 

Loki’s eyes fell shut as a sudden sleepy pull overcame him.

 

_ “Wake up.” _

 

The smell of vanilla permeated the air and Loki seeked to bury his nose into Amelia’s soft tresses... 

 

But she was gone.

 

* * *

 

Muffled voices and amorphous shapes greeted Loki when he blinked his eyes open, everything seemed far away and blurry as the world struggled to reform around him; he was groggy and uncomfortable, wanting simply for everything to grow sharper so that he could compose his bearings and figure out just what was going on. The only thing that remained explicit was the unequivocal scent of sweet vanilla.  _ Amelia? _

 

There was pressure on his face, a gentle warmth cupping his cheek and he drew in a shallow breath, squinting through his befogged eyes to try and validate who was sitting before him; a round face, brown hair in disarray, glasses and lightly freckled cheeks - there was only one person he knew that fit that description.

 

Her lips moved, the sound of her voice resonating without clarity, and Loki winced as he tried to shift his body and found that his limbs were heavy and unwilling to cooperate.

 

She spoke again and Loki recognised the sound of his own name, but not much beyond; he forced his vision to focus and the image became more distinct - Amelia sat beside him, practically almost on top of him, her face was close to his own and she touched his jaw softly with her fingertips. Her eyes looked sore, brimming with tears, but her lips formed a relieved smile - though the knit in her eyebrows showed overwhelming concern.

 

“Loki… hey, Loki…” Her words slowly sounded more pronounced until eventually he could comprehend her sentences, “Loki… can you hear me? Love?”

 

Loki parted his lips to respond but found that his throat was too dry for him to form words, instead he managed a groan of affirmation, to which Amelia’s eyes brightened with a hopeful glimmer, and she cast a smile across the bed that he realised he was lying in.

 

“Loki, it’s Doctor Banner”, a voice to his left sounded, and Loki squinted again, searching for the source, “You’ve just awoken from a coma, I imagine you’re probably very confused. That’s normal.”

 

Loki turned his head, ignoring the twinge in his neck as he did so, eyeing Banner briefly before returning his gaze to Amelia, who was still far too close - he barely had room to breathe and it was making him feel crowded.

 

“Brother”, Thor’s familiar timbre drifted in from behind Amelia and Loki blinked up at the God of Thunder as he spoke, “Welcome back.” A subdued smile was prominent on the oaf’s face.

 

“You’ve been asleep for a while… I was scared you wouldn’t wake up…” Amelia murmured, and she sounded very much like she was trying not to cry, gently brushing the back of her knuckles against his cheekbone in a benevolent manner. “It’s okay now… you’re okay… Thanos is dead, Loki, everything’s back to normal.”

 

_ Thanos? _

 

Thanos had just been torturing him, a fiery heat searing through him to try and break his will like he had done in the past - but that hadn’t been real. At least, it hadn’t been the real Thanos - it was just an illusion from Hel, crafted to torment him for eternity.

 

_ And so was this.  _ There was no escape - no alleviation to his distress - it would never stop.  _ It would never stop. _

 

Loki grunted, turning away from what was clearly just another illusion - another attempt to lull him into a false sense of security until eventually it would bring more misery and suffering down upon him like a tonne of burning debris.

 

“Loki?” Amelia whispered tentatively, cocking her head as he looked away, “Loki, are you-”

 

“Get off.”

 

“What?”

 

_ “Get off”,  _ Loki growled, trying to push the woman away with what little strength he had - he needed to fend off the encompassing, smothering feeling.  _ It was suffocating him. _

 

Amelia pulled back, her face twisting into a look of hurt, “Loki, it’s… it’s  _ me.” _

 

Loki raised his hand, pressing his fingers to his forehead as he tried to fight off the intensifying headache pulsing beneath his temple; a moan of discomfort left his mouth and Amelia reached for him again, pressing her fingers lightly to his wrist. He responded by batting her hand away with a scoff, “Leave me  _ alone.” _

 

He wouldn’t accept it this time. He wouldn’t get comfortable.  _ He wouldn’t allow himself to believe that this was the real Amelia.  _ It would only end badly,  _ again. _

 

Amelia gave an audible exhale, making a noise that sounded as if she had been punched in the gut, and she backed away from the bed, stopping only when she came into contact with Thor, who only looked on with bewilderment.

 

“Get out”, Loki hissed, “All of you  _ get out”,  _ his voice was growing stronger with each word, though it still sounded grating and dry, “Leave.  _ Go, now.”  _

 

“Okay, whoa”, Doctor Banner gave a nervous little laugh, “You’re disorientated, it’s okay - that’s normal. Just calm down”, he held his hands up to help settle the situation, but Loki despised the patronising cadence to his voice, and reached blindly with his hand to grab the first thing it could reach - a ceramic flower pot sitting on the side of the nightstand - and hurled it towards the mild-mannered doctor with all the power he could muster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooooooooh boi. Lemme know what y'all think of THAT :')
> 
> The amount of comments I got last chapter made me squeaaaaaaaal - if y'all keep that up I would appreciate it SO MUCH! 
> 
> Thank you again! <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AYEEEEEE, I know it's been a few weeks, but I have had like NO time to write owing to the fact that I've gotten more contract hours at work so I've really been trying to write when I can and I feel super bad because the plan was to have this chapter up like WEEKS ago ;_;
> 
> That being said, at least it wasn't like six months wait this time x'D

It wasn’t quite how Amelia had imagined things would go.

 

She’d had a preconception of how the entire event would take place - Loki would awake, muddled but calm, she would be there to reassure him, and he would eventually come back to himself and be relieved that everybody was alive, and the evil Thanos -  _ defeated forever _ \- but she hadn’t prepared herself for the possibility that Loki would awaken hot-tempered and violent.

 

He’d pushed her away like she was a stranger, his lip curled with displeasure at the sight of her; after a month and a half of waiting anxiously for her lover to awaken from his comatose state, to be hit with such a dismissive attitude from him was utterly heartbreaking and left her feeling emotionally exhausted. 

 

Amelia slumped in the chair outside the infirmary, her fingers playing idly with the thin material of her sweater as she eyed the collection of raised marks on her palms where her cuts had scarred. She tried to keep her attention off of what was possibly being discussed behind the closed door of Loki’s hospital room, knowing Thor was in there trying to talk some sense into his little brother, and that if anyone could sort him out, it was probably the God of Thunder.

 

She let out a deep sigh, lifting her gaze to take a glimpse at the man sitting in the chair beside her before hesitantly speaking up, “I can’t believe he threw a flower pot at you.”

 

Bruce Banner smiled wryly, his nose scrunching up as his face expressed a more cynical look, and he crossed his arms lazily over his chest, “I can believe it.”

 

Amelia nibbled at the inside of her lip, “Yeah, well, I guess it’s a good thing he missed.”

 

The doctor gave a hum. “His hand-eye coordination needs some work, but I suppose it’s normal that his motor skills have suffered after being in a coma for almost fifty days”, Bruce remarked thoughtfully.

 

“Is it normal for him to act like he is?” Amelia enquired tentatively, and Bruce let out a huff of amusement, turning his head to face her.

 

“For Loki? Yeah, I think so.”

 

Amelia’s lips drew into a pout, “So you think it’s not at all alarming that he was acting like I was… I don’t know… not  _ myself?”  _

 

“That’s not how I saw it”, Bruce replied in a tone of wise reassurance, “He’s just woken up, he’s disorientated and far from comfortable… and you were kinda stifling him a bit.”

 

Amelia dropped her gaze to the floor, wringing her fingers neurotically, “I was just… I didn’t- didn’t  _ mean  _ to suffocate him- I was just happy that he was awake!” She buried her face in her hands, her chest tight with distress that she had inadvertently triggered Loki’s disquieting actions.

 

She’d been waiting for her plan to succeed, and when Loki’s pulse had jumped suddenly on the vitals monitor, she had been filled with exhilaration, enveloping him immediately, caressing his face as she called his name until he stirred. When his eyes had fluttered open, she could have sworn her heart stuttered in her chest.

 

But now she was filled with a similar dread that she’d been experiencing for the last two months, worried for her lover - wanting nothing more than for things to just return to normal; if there was a higher power, they were playing a cruel joke on her by letting her hopes soar only to crush them again minutes later.

 

“I know you didn’t mean to, but Loki didn’t know that. He clearly didn’t know what was going on - he’d probably never admit it but he seemed afraid when he woke”, Bruce shrugged his shoulders, “He needed space. I should’ve told you to give him some, I’m sorry.”

 

“No”, Amelia shook her head, “It was my fault. I probably wouldn’t have listened anyway”, she gave a half-hearted chuckle and Bruce smiled apologetically. “Do you think… he’ll be back to normal soon?”

 

Dr Banner let out a sigh, a look of deliberation appearing fleetingly on his face, “It’s impossible to tell. He might just need time to reacquaint himself with his surroundings, at which point his temperament could return to normal. I mean, think of how lost you’d feel after getting knocked out for a month and a half”, he rationalised, offering a small smile of comfort.

 

Despite her nerves, Amelia managed a hesitant smile in return before resuming the obsessive fidgeting of her hands while she waited for Thor to exit the infirmary - hopefully with the news that he had brought Loki back to his senses.

 

Straining her ears, Amelia could pick up on the muffled sound of voices coming from within, and while she couldn’t comprehend the words that were being said, the fact that the tones were sharp and loud couldn’t suggest anything good. Then again, Thor and Loki were siblings who had a thing for snapping at each other with booming timbres, so perhaps she was just reading into the situation too much and what sounded like angry shouts were in fact just emphatically  _ normal  _ for the two brothers.

 

It wasn’t until Thor left the room in a huff that Amelia concluded her initial guess had unfortunately been correct.

 

“He’s not listening to me”, Thor barked as the door fell shut behind him, a supremely pissed off look on his face. “He’s acting like a petulant child - keeps saying none of this is real, and I can’t convince him otherwise”, his angry expression melted into something more remorseful as he saw Amelia’s miserable stare, and a sigh left his lips, “I tried talking to him. I’m sorry, Amelia, I don’t think he’s quite  _ all there  _ yet.”

 

“Maybe I should talk to him-” Bruce began prudently, but Amelia swiftly cut him off.

 

“No, I’ll talk to him”, she proclaimed, standing from her seat with a modicum of determination in her honey brown eyes, “I think there’s less of a chance he’ll throw something at me.”

 

Thor looked unconvinced, which in turn encouraged a flutter of anxiety to pass through Amelia’s stomach. “He’s not himself, Amelia”, the God of Thunder warned before lowering his voice, “I can’t say for certain that he wouldn’t harm you.”

 

Amelia’s lips parted as she stared into Thor’s mismatched eyes, met with utter grave sincerity, and she shook her head with a little less surety than before, “He won’t… he won’t hurt me. He wouldn’t.”

 

“I’m with Thor. He seems completely unpredictable at the moment, and from what Thor is describing, it sounds as though Loki may be suffering from an episode of psychosis”, Bruce interjected as he too rose to his feet, “I think you should wait. I’ll examine him and carry out a psychiatric assessment-”

 

“I’ve waited enough”, Amelia argued, straightening her posture with the intent to boost her own confidence and authority - not that she, squeaky and rather short in comparison to the other two, could seize much influence in the current situation - and pursed her lips with resolution, “I’m going to talk to him whether you like it or not.”

 

An exasperated sigh escaped Dr Banner’s lips, his gaze falling purposefully on the woman; he was silent for several long moments before a look of resignation appeared on his face, “Fine. But you keep your distance from him and don’t make any sudden movements. If you need either of us, just call, we’ll be standing right outside the door.”

 

Amelia gave the man a grateful nod, “Thank you.” 

 

Thor remained tentative as Amelia turned to the entrance to Loki’s infirmary room before giving the God of Thunder an expectant look, “Would you…” her eyes flickered to the handprint scanner, and Thor acceded, pressing his palm flat against the screen.

 

The door slid open and Amelia stepped inside, her eyes going immediately to the man sitting on the edge of the bed, slightly hunched over in his posture, and then to the mess of soil on the wall and the floor where Loki had launched the flowerpot. The broken white clematis petals lay amidst the shattered remains of the terracotta pot.

 

Loki looked ill, his face still remarkably pale as it had been when he was in a coma, but now it was accompanied with an expression of exhaustion and nausea, owing to the fact that his stomach was settling after his body’s first movements in quite a while. His breathing was uneven - he kept taking deeper breaths to try and combat the queasiness he must have been feeling - and his hands were every so faintly shaking.

 

His gaze flickered across the floor to land briefly on her feet before returning to the ground directly below him; he seemed keen to ignore her.

 

“Loki”, Amelia began, speaking softly, “I’m sorry for crowding you when you woke up, I should’ve been more considerate… it didn’t occur to me that you would be so uncomfortable… I’m sorry”, she repeated even more quietly, keeping her gaze on her agitated lover, hopeful that he would at least respond.

 

Loki did not speak immediately, but after a few deliberate blinks, he turned his head, giving her a quick once over before a deceitful smile pulled at his lips. He let out a scoff, the action followed consecutively by a wince, and rolled his eyes, attempting to seem scornful even in his obvious discomfort.

 

“Amelia is not that scrawny”, he muttered, seemingly to nobody in particular, an edge of goading to his voice, “You’re not even trying anymore.”

 

Amelia blinked, her eyes growing wide with perplexion and upset; she looked down at herself - sure, she supposed she had lost a little bit of weight over the month and a half she had been emotionally suffering, but it was rather hurtful of Loki to point it out in such a scathing way, and if he thought she looked awful, he ought to have taken a look in the mirror.

 

“What?” Amelia whispered in stunned confusion, waiting for the man to elucidate his statement, but he just returned his stare to the floor as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. She decided to brush off his remark as the result of his confused state of mind, and instead settled on trying to get through to him slowly. “Do you need some water?” she asked, motioning the water dispenser in the corner of the room, and while Loki did not verbally reply, he turned his head up, looking over at her with a non-dismissive expression, so Amelia took that as an affirmative.

 

She turned unhurriedly, plucking up one of the plastic cups to fill it with water, and then approached Loki with a heedful pace as Dr Banner had suggested, holding out the cup for him to take it himself. It was a smart way to have an excuse to move closer to him, but Amelia made sure to leave a mindful gap of space between them.

 

Loki eyed the cup of water with distrust but took it from her guardedly, pinning her with the same look of cynicism before minutely shaking his head, “Is it poisoned?” He enquired aloud, quirking his head as he sloshed the liquid around in its vessel, lip curling with no hint of joy.

 

Amelia was baffled, unsure of what spurred his utterly serious sounding question - why on  _ earth  _ would Loki think she was going to poison him?

 

There were a handful of responses that floated around her mind, but she decided that she needed something to break the tension and relax the atmosphere a little - humour was always good for bringing simmering situations back from the boiling point. Amelia moved promptly to the water cooler and filled another cup, returned to Loki’s side and downed the water in a few short gulps before scrutinising the empty vessel like a detective looking for a well-hidden murder weapon.

 

“Oh, yah. No, there’s definitely poison in that. Whew. Tastes kinda tangy - not bad actually, I can think of worse-tasting things”, she proclaimed with a hum and then laid a hand over the side of her abdomen, “Oh, yep- there go my kidneys, I can feel the organ failure kicking in already. Wow, this stuff works fast!”

 

Loki’s stared her down with expressionless eyes, his mouth pulled into a permanent frown, and for a moment Amelia was worried that he had taken offense to her playful sarcasm and seen it as more of a sardonic ridiculing, but he proceeded to roll his eyes and sip the water in a gesture of resignation.

 

“Better?” Amelia asked gently after Loki finished the drink, but instead of answering, he simply held out the empty cup for her to take; Amelia did so, pinning him with an expectant look which did not have the desired effect. Loki did not seem like he wanted to talk at all, and Amelia did not know whether this was better than the angry shouting match he had with Thor.

 

A sigh breezed past Amelia’s lips as she discarded the empty cups into the small waste bin nearby and then crossed her arms, looking more than a little lost on how to progress; she eventually decided to try and shed some light on something Thor had told her.

 

“Thor said you don’t think this is real.”

 

An unamused huff broke free from Loki’s throat, “Because it’s not.”

 

Amelia gently contended, “But it is-”

 

_ “No”,  _ Loki snapped immediately, his gaze dark and full of anger, “it’s  _ not.” _

 

Amelia pursed her lips and swallowed; in the back of her mind she felt this was not an innocuous subject to pursue, but in order to help Loki, she needed to understand his way of thinking - and  _ why  _ he felt there was no authenticity to what was currently happening around him. She nodded her head in acknowledgement of his words instead of repudiating them and kept her tone light and tame.

 

“Why isn’t this real?”

 

Loki looked down, his jaw clenching as he pulled and toyed with the material of the bed sheets either side of his thighs - he looked as though he wanted to stand, but his hesitance made Amelia think he probably didn’t have the strength to do so - his nose twitched before he answered, “Because you want me to suffer.”

 

“I don’t want you to suffer, Loki”, Amelia softly spoke, the heart-rending realisation that Loki had clearly gone through something awful to be in such a headspace rose up and she wanted nothing more than to envelop her lover in her arms.

 

“Alright”, he hissed out a mirthless chuckle, “Whatever you say.” His voice dripped with sarcasm and a clear lack of willingness to accept anything Amelia told him.

 

He looked at her like she was not to be trusted - like she was a hostile fiend who wanted to bring him nothing but pain and misery - and it  _ hurt  _ to be seen as such, but it hurt more knowing that Loki believed he was trapped amongst enemies. All Amelia wanted was to bring Loki comfort, to show him that he was wrong, and that he could safely relax and  _ heal  _ from what must have been a traumatic experience.

 

His gaze lowered and he blinked slowly, an evident symptom of exhaustion -  _ of course, a coma was not a good substitute for actual sleep _ \- and Amelia’s hand rose of its own accord the same moment a crestfallen sigh of his name fell from her lips.

 

Amelia had meant to cup his face and run her thumb along his cheekbone in a way she had grown used to doing every time Loki woke in the past from a distressing nightmare, but her hand barely made it several inches from his face before her wrist was clutched tightly in an implacable grip, her breath catching in her throat in surprise at just how firmly he squeezed her hand.

 

“Do not touch me”, he warned. Incidentally, despite Loki’s drastic lack of energy, his reflexes were still optimal enough and his strength was still far beyond that of her own.

 

Amelia winced, her gaze shifting to his white-knuckled grip, and she sniffed as her eyes stung with the threat of tears, “Your hands are cold”, she murmured quietly, trying valiantly to diffuse the tension of the moment with a phrase she once used all too often. Ever since Loki had divulged snippets of information about his heritage, it hadn’t exactly been a mystery as to why his hands always felt freezing - he was a  _ ‘Frost Giant’,  _ it was pretty normal for them to have cold hands.

 

Loki did not seem to find any humour in her proclamation, peering at her with eyes that were colder than his hands; his gaze flickered to her palms, catching sight of the marred skin with a hint of curiosity, and his clasp on her let up only slightly as he squinted.

 

“What is this?” He studied the scars with an analytical glare - there was no trace of concern in his voice, just pure inquisitiveness derived from a desire to know.

 

Amelia bit her lip at his insensitive tone, but tentatively answered nonetheless, “I searched for you in Wakanda among the remains of a wrecked ship”, she told him, the recollection triggering the painful memories of finding Loki in such a grave condition, and in turn forcing her eyes to brim with tears, “I fell down the slope of a ravine and it tore up the skin of my hands, and I found you - you were crushed… under debris, and I thought you were…” she trailed off, sucking in a breath to try and control her emotions. “I thought you were dead, but then you- you were still breathing, and I was so happy you were alive -  _ but then _ you wouldn’t wake up-” 

 

She blinked frantically to try and hold the tears back, but they fell anyway. It didn’t help that Loki continued to look at her with a wholly uncaring scowl.

 

“I… I didn’t think you were gonna wake up at all, you were in a coma for so long… I was so alone”, she trailed off, knowing her blubbering was far from attractive, but unfortunately for Amelia, when she began to cry, it took a lot of concentration and effort for her to stop, and it was far from achievable at the current moment.

 

“If you’re trying to make me feel sorry for you, it’s not going to work. I’m not going to let some cheap illusion get to me again.”

 

The frustration and the anguish of being pitted as an  _ ‘illusion’ _ only fuelled Amelia’s misery, and with her other hand she grabbed Loki’s shoulder, “It’s  _ me,  _ Loki!”

 

_ “No!”  _ The God of Mischief bellowed, rising up to his full height as he took a handful of Amelia’s hair and pulled her closer, disregarding the shocked cry of pain that left her lips in favour of hissing threateningly into her ear, “You are not Amelia, you are  _ not  _ her.  _ Stop pretending to be.  _ I’m not a naive fool, I won’t fall for it  _ again-” _

 

_ “Loki!”  _

 

Thor’s booming voice interrupted the scuffle and Loki turned to his brother who had just entered the room, presumably at the sound of Amelia’s startled cry. Loki’s grasp on Amelia’s hair did not let up, and she continued to struggle in an attempt to pry the god off of her, to no avail.

 

“Release her, Loki”, Thor demanded, “now, Loki. _You’re hurting her.”_

 

Loki’s fingers did not unclench for another few seconds, at which point Amelia staggered back, pressing her hand to her scalp where the god had almost plucked the hairs right off her head. Her trembling sobs filled the room as she stumbled away lest he lash out again, and turned to him with a wounded look.

 

The God of Mischief breathed heavily, his sharp stare piercing her with contempt, until eventually after several short moments, Loki’s breaths turned into wheezes, and his hand pressed to his chest, a nauseous groan escaping his throat. He hunched over, his other hand gripping the bedside table to steady himself, but his legs wobbled and gave out beneath him, an afflicted grunt leaving his mouth as he collapsed to his knees in clear distress.

 

Amelia’s initial instinct was to approach him again, to make sure he was alright as concern bubbled up inside her, but Bruce stopped her, laying his hand on her shoulder and ushering her back.

 

“Come on, Amelia”, he urged her, but she didn’t  _ want  _ to go. She wanted to stay, to convince Loki that she  _ was  _ real and that she only wanted to  _ help him _ \- from the way the god was clutching his chest, it seemed as though his ribs had yet to heal and exhaustion was creeping up on him - she couldn’t abandon him  _ now. _

 

She wasn’t able to argue, however, because the doctor pulled her out of the room and shut the door behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're reading this, please comment. You gotta know that when you're using up all your free time writing full-length stories for FREE, the only pay-off I get is the comments from you guys. Remember, your comments are my incentive to write with more motivation.
> 
> The more comments I receive, the easier it is for the writing to flow from my mind and onto the page, thus the quicker the next chapter will be out.
> 
> So please don't gloss over these end notes and choose not to comment, because that makes me sad :( :( :( COMMENTS MAKE ME HAPPY THOUGH! Do it!! :D


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You GUYS!!!!! Your comments from the last chapter made me so happy! This chapter was originally only 4k words long but I got so inspired, I wrote more till it was 5k+ and it's really all thanks to all of you and your wonderful words! <3 Thank you so much everyone! :D I hope you enjoy this chapter!!

Thanos had warped and manipulated Loki’s mind.

 

That was Doctor Banner’s supposition - that the Mad Titan had used the mind stone and implanted a seed in Loki’s head that sprouted distress and feelings of doubt, designed to take the things Loki feared most and turn them in on himself until it was no longer clear what was reality and what was a twisted delusion.

 

“Loki has a strong will. Casting illusions is kind of his _thing,_ and I think ordinarily he’d be able to sniff them out, y’know?” Bruce had proclaimed, “I’m sure Thanos knew that too, so I believe the comatose state was purposely induced, not just a result of his injuries or as an auxiliary effect to the corruption of his thoughts. Thanos made it so Loki couldn’t consciously fight those fears, so by the time he woke up, they’d built up enough potency to deceive him - making him feel like he can’t trust what he sees.”

 

“What can I do? Is there anything that can help?” Amelia had asked Bruce, her face pulled into a creased expression of dwindling hope. She didn’t want to hear that there wasn’t a single active thing she could do, but she asked anyway, noting the apologetic traces on the doctor’s face with dismay. His quiet hesitance spoke louder than words.

 

It was an awful feeling - being utterly useless. There was nothing Amelia could say or do to convince Loki of what was true; not only was it the most frustrating thing in the world, but it filled her with endless worries that the God of Mischief would never be himself again.

 

“Time, patience and understanding”, had been Banner’s resigned response.

 

Amelia lay immobile above the covers of her’s and Loki’s bed; it had been several hours since her lover had awoken from his coma and there had been a steadily growing feeling of anxiousness in her gut that she could not shake. The ceiling was incredibly boring to look at - it was a solid grey colour with no marks or patterns to distract herself with, but the longer she stared at it, the more she began to see moving shadows and distortions in the paint.

 

The ceiling in her old apartment bedroom had had little squiggly, raised bumps all over it - just to add a little pizzazz to the nights she spent unable to sleep and instead used those hours wisely by counting how many squiggles made up her ceiling.

 

Amelia felt like she was going crazy.

 

Even hours later, her scalp still ached from where Loki had clenched a handful of her hair and yanked her close to hiss venomously in her ear - _you are not Amelia_ \- but she couldn’t find it in herself to hold it against him. Thor had reacted callously, roaring at his brother - enraged that he would cause any sort of harm to her - while Amelia slinked back to her room, dejected and crestfallen and searching her mind for anything that could potentially bring a trace of optimism back to the situation.

 

_How could she convince Loki she was real? How could she even grasp the opportunity when Loki was confined to the infirmary and did not wish to even see her?_ She felt as though she was at a dead end, struggling to accomplish an impossible task with no guidance or instruction, and no time to prepare. _Well, that wasn’t entirely true._ Loki had been unconscious for almost fifty days and while she’d never expected the man to come out of it perfectly fine, she hadn’t exactly expected him to be so _traumatised_ either.

 

Just when she thought she’d pulled herself together, it seemed another issue was ready to rear its ugly face.

 

_What was she going to do?_

 

* * *

 

It was three days before Amelia saw Loki again.

 

She’d mustered up the willpower to return to work at the flower shop, having been away long enough. Her coworkers were quite surprised to see her back after her prolonged leave of absence - perhaps assuming that she was going to quit - but they all welcomed her back with open arms, telling Amelia that they were glad to have her in the shop again. Amelia couldn’t really tell if it was genuine or if they were just happy they didn’t have to work extra hours to cover her shifts anymore.

 

Either way, Amelia forced herself back into her role of selling floral arrangements and bouquets to clients, doing her best to ignore the way her colleagues looked at her with concern and curiosity out of the corner of their eyes.

 

She knew she’d lost weight - Loki had discourteously made that clear the same day he’d woken up - and that her skin had lost its healthy glow, but she was beginning to grow a little offended that rather than asking her about it, her colleagues simply stared and shared murmurs about it when they thought she wasn’t listening.

 

_Oh well, back to work-life,_ she thought with waning bitterness. She wasn’t going to let it bother her - especially not when other things were so prominently on her mind. It was difficult to smile at customers and speak in friendly tones while whirring thoughts of _Loki_ were flying through her mind… _but she’d managed before._

 

When she returned to the Avengers Tower after her first shift back and stepped into the elevator, Tony’s voice came over the intercom, “Hey Bubbles, how was work?”

 

Amelia figured that the forced note of enthusiasm in his voice was likely owed to the fact that there was no good news regarding Loki’s situation, but she appreciated it nonetheless that Tony paused his work in the lab to check in on her.

 

“Yeah, it was great”, she responded, trying to sound at least somewhat content and failing miserably - it didn’t take an observational genius to tell that she was completely exhausted, and not just physically.

 

“You don’t have to lie to me, kid. You can say if it sucked”, said Tony, prompting Amelia to snort.

 

“It didn’t suck, it’s just… you know… _people.”_

 

“I know, kid”, Tony responded, a ghost of a smile in his voice, “I thought I should update you on Loki. He’s been allowed out of the infirmary and his strength is returning, but he’s restricted to the Tower right now. I’d say to stay away from him for a while but I know that’s the last thing you wanna do, so just be careful, alright? He’s less aggressive but still pretty snappy.”

 

A flutter of relief filtered through Amelia at this development. Loki had been confined to the infirmary since he woke, mainly due to his delicate mental state and the fact that he’d been deemed a threat to others, and while he hadn’t put up much of a fight to escape the little hospital-esque room, Amelia knew he had to have been very bored in there. It was a good thing that he was allowed to roam around freely now.

 

“Thanks, Tony”, Amelia spoke, the slight alleviation of anxiety more than palpable in her tone, “I’ll be careful.”

 

“Talk to you later, Bubbles. If you need me, I’m in the lab. Same goes for Bruce.” The click of the intercom indicated the end of the call, as it were, and Amelia exited the elevator on the communal floor, making her way briskly down the hallway to the _other_ elevator that would take her to her’s and Loki’s room. A small part of her was trying to warn her not to get _too_ excited about Loki’s health improvement, because she naturally wanted to link the jump in his physical healing to that of his mental healing, but she knew deep down that it would not be that simple.

 

Still, she foolishly held out hope that her lover would so soon take a turn for the better.

 

When she reached their room, she froze. Her hand hovered above the access pad with budding uncertainty. _What if Loki just told her to get lost again? What if he didn’t want to share the room with her anymore?_ She didn’t doubt that Tony had a spare room laying around somewhere, if that happened to be the case, but she wanted to be _close_ to Loki. She wanted so desperately to help him, and she couldn’t do that if they were physically apart.

 

Against her better judgement, she punched in the access key quickly and easily before her brain could catch up and stop her, and was filled anew with another flood of worry before forcing herself to suck it up. She pushed the door open.

 

The sight that greeted her was one she had seen more often than not upon returning home from work in the past. Loki sat in the comfortable alcove by the window, one leg pulled up into the nook and the other hanging off the edge; the brightness from the setting sun outside penetrated the room, bathing Loki in deep, dazzling orange light. It was clear from just a glance that he was already doing much better - he didn’t look so peaky, he’d taken a shower and brushed his hair, and he was dressed in his Asgardian linens.

 

On his knee, he held an open book, and his gaze was torn from the pages as Amelia took a tentative step into the room.

 

For a few moments, Amelia could almost trick herself into thinking everything was normal again - that Loki would greet her imminently with a kiss and a caress of the cheek, he’d flash a hint of a charming smile, ask her how her day was, and hold her in his arms, breathing in the scent of her hair.

 

Loki turned the page over and resumed reading, paying her no mind.

 

Amelia’s throat felt awfully tight all of a sudden - it was foolish to think things would be fine _just like that._ Dropping her bag on the bed, she toed off her shoes, finding it difficult to tear her eyes away from Loki - he was awake, he was _alive,_ and he looked as though he was getting well again - but the taut pains in her chest refused to subside. He may have looked well, but his mind was far from it.

 

She swallowed her nerves, “Hi Loki.”

 

Loki turned another page.

 

“How are you feeling?” Amelia valiantly maintained a soft and steady tone despite herself, digging her thumb into the palm of her other hand to try and distract herself from her despondency.

 

He disregarded her question and instead posed one of his own, “Where have you been?”

 

Amelia’s lips parted in surprise. The fact that he was curious about her whereabouts had to have meant something, and she couldn’t help but lean towards the possibility that Loki had either missed her or at least been concerned by her absence from the Tower. “I’ve been at work today.”

 

Loki gave a derisory snort, his lip curling into a smile devoid of humour, “Really?” The low inflection of his voice suggested he did not believe her.

 

“Yeah”, Amelia answered, brow furrowed in confusion, “It was my first day back in almost two months… I took personal leave because I… I couldn’t do anything but _worry_ about you”, she breathed a sigh, ashamed of how pitiable she sounded, “I wasn’t coping very well. Thor can attest to that.”

 

Loki’s lip twitched up in revulsion at the mention of his brother, “Oh? And I suppose my brother took care of you?”

 

Amelia did not know why Loki spoke with such animosity, “He did, actually. He talked some common sense into me and it probably saved my life.” If it hadn’t been for Thor’s intervention in which he forcibly removed her from the infirmary, she could have very well ended up in a hospital bed of her own. Plus, without Thor taking her back to her room, she may not have gotten the idea of how to wake Loki in the first place.

 

Loki’s stare was stationary on the pages of his book, eyes piercing as ever, and Amelia could tell that he was no longer reading the words on the paper.

 

“Well, why don’t you go bother him instead of me?”

 

Amelia pursed her lips, mainly to try and retain some semblance of dignity as her eyes stung at the flippant, hurtful request. While Loki’s dismissive attitude acted as painful prods to her heart, Amelia still felt a swell of indignation at his inconsideration, and she drew in a shaky exhale, puffing her chest up while clenching her fists. “I didn’t come here to bother you, Loki”, she sniffed, “I came here to see you, and talk with you, because you’ve been in a goddamn coma - and I thought that _maybe_ you would be happy to see me again after you almost died-” the last word escaped her mouth in the form of a crestfallen sigh and she averted her gaze to quickly rub her shirt sleeve against her eyes.

 

It didn’t really help to quell the tears that threatened to overflow. Amelia hated that her immediate response to being spurned was to cry; it made her feel pathetic, but her body was tired, and it felt all too easy to let the tears spill.

 

She blinked rapidly, refusing to break down - not _now._ She couldn’t just blubber and sob every time Loki repudiated her existence, especially given that it was going to be a common occurrence for at least a while.

 

“You can’t just tell me to leave”, Amelia continued, the tremble in her voice evident of her sensitive state, “this is my room too. If you can’t tolerate my presence then _you_ can leave.” She regretted the words as soon as she said them; her intent was to actually sit down with Loki and talk things out - she couldn’t do that if she pushed him away.

 

Loki looked at her, his shrewd gaze and neutral expression giving nothing away for a few long seconds before his jaw clenched and his eyes fell slowly shut - a textbook exhibition of frustration and annoyance. With deliberate movements, Loki snapped the book shut with a light _thump_ and slid from the window alcove to his feet. “Fine”, he said, “I’ll find somewhere else to read.”

 

Amelia slumped in dismay, shaking her head with an imploring look on her face. Her first instinct was to reach out and grab his arm or step in front of him and block his path, but she didn’t want to worsen the situation further, so she forced herself to remain still, hands mentally restrained to her sides. “Loki- _please,_ can we just talk-”

 

“There’s nothing to talk about”, Loki interjected as he walked around her, and disappeared swiftly from the room.

 

Amelia did not see him for the rest of the night.

 

* * *

 

Loki avoided Amelia with ease, slipping away every time she caught sight of him, disappearing so quickly that she couldn’t even follow after the man - it was driving Amelia insane. She constantly found herself asking the other occupants of the tower whether they had seen the God of Mischief, but was always met with negative answers, which made sense - if Loki was dead set on avoiding her, it was only reasonable to assume he was steering clear of everybody else as well.

 

She combed every room of the tower that she was familiar with, even paying a visit to the hidden garden on the old helicopter pad - she hoped he would be there, sitting on the cushioned wicker-bench with a book in his hand, but instead she was greeted with the sight of wilting flowers. The cooling weather was affecting the plants - she really needed to think about sowing some winter-thriving blooms.

 

The final place she checked was the training room below the facility, but found that it was scarcely populated at midday, everyone was probably eating lunch at that time - well, everyone except Black Widow, aka Natasha Romanov. The blonde-haired woman seemed to be in the middle of practising some form of martial arts - _Amelia was definitely not well versed in numerous fighting techniques to be able to identify which style_ \- and did not allow herself to become distracted by Amelia’s presence.

 

Amelia observed the woman for a while, watching her display perfect form and intense focus - she’d figured the Black Widow was a total badass already, but watching the woman move only cemented that thought. It also helped empower her intimidation factor - Amelia wouldn’t want to get on the bad side of Natasha Romanov.

 

Something about watching the Avenger move so gracefully had Amelia wishing she was a formidable fighter, there was a sly pleasure in the notion of kicking the asses of criminals with ease, putting bad guys in their place, and demanding respect while doing so. Amelia glanced down at herself; she was about as far from intimidating as one could possibly get - she really didn’t have much muscle on her body at all, and being so physically fit demanded a strict diet and exercise regime that she didn’t have the willpower for.

 

She didn’t think there was necessarily anything wrong with her body, but it would’ve been fantastic to be a superhero - or even just a regular, ordinary hero, come to think of it.

 

“Amelia, right?”

 

Amelia almost jumped, looking up at the mention of her name. Natasha had finished her formations and was now stretching her arms, pinning Amelia with a pointed look that tickled her nerves and urged her back into a ramrod straight position.

 

She swallowed, “Yeah, um, Amelia Avery”, she confirmed, but didn’t say anything more in fear of babbling out unnecessary and unwanted information.

 

“Natasha Romanov”, the Black Widow introduced herself, a smile pulling at her lips, “Did you come down here for any particular reason?” Her enquiry was not asked unkindly, her tone merely curious with a hint of consideration.

 

“Oh, um”, Amelia’s eyes flickered towards the elevator she had walked out of, “I was just… looking for Loki.”

 

Natasha made a noise of acknowledgement, an incisive hum to match her analytical expression, “I saw him skulking around on the fifth floor early this morning, but he wandered off before I could get a proper look at him”, she shrugged her shoulders, “He might still be there.”

 

Amelia lit up at that, lips parting and forming a buoyant smile, and her feet twitched with the impulse to pivot and hop into the elevator at an instant in order to make her way quickly towards the suggested location, but she forced herself not to seem overly enthusiastic. “Thank you!” She spoke with a grateful look, making a move to turn and leave, but Natasha’s voice made her pause.

 

“Be careful”, the Black Widow told her, and Amelia felt her smile droop. She knew Natasha did not trust Loki in the slightest, just as Steve Rogers didn’t either, because they didn’t _know_ him like _she_ did.

 

Amelia glanced back over her shoulder, “Loki wouldn’t hurt me”, she stated in the same succinct tone she had told Thor.

 

“You don’t know that”, Natasha informed her matter-of-factly, and Amelia’s brow furrowed, her disposition hardening just a little.

 

“Yes I do.” The confidence in her statement was unwavering.

 

“I heard he grabbed you by the hair and dragged you around”, Natasha quirked an eyebrow and Amelia faltered, blinking a few times quickly.

 

Word sure seemed to travel fast in the Avengers complex.

 

“That was-” Amelia stammered, “It was- Loki had just woken up, he was confused, that’s all. He didn’t know what he was doing…” She was convinced it was the truth; Loki had been disorientated, exhausted and in pain. She couldn’t blame him for acting so rough and callous when he’d been in such a state.

 

Natasha didn’t have anything to say in response, so Amelia stepped diffidently back into the lift, punching in the number for the fifth floor.

 

* * *

 

A lot of the rooms on the fifth floor were currently being used by several other of the Avengers as personal bedrooms - given this fact, it was unlikely to find Loki hiding out in any room that was designated to another; this whittled down the amount of hiding places significantly, leaving only several potential spaces the god could have been inhabiting.

 

As expected, the small storage closet partway down the hallway was vacant, concealing nothing but a few cleaning supplies. The first unused bedroom was also empty, as Amelia noted from her brief perusal, but the second unused bedroom yielded the results she was after - as she pushed the door open, Loki quickly sat up straight from his reposed position upon the couch, a vexed look quickly taking hold of his expression as he sighed exasperatedly.

 

“Why won’t you just _leave me alone?”_ Loki hissed, his fist clenched tightly around the book in his hand.

 

Amelia nibbled the inside of her lip, “I miss you, Loki”, she responded, simple and soft as she walked further into the room with immense hesitation. She didn’t want to approach him too quickly in case he felt smothered again and decided to disappear off to another part of the tower without a trace.

 

Loki scoffed, rubbing his hand over his face to pinch the bridge of his nose. He shook his head, holding out his hand in an expectant manner, “What do you want?” His snappy tone was cruel, demanding that she get to the point.

 

Amelia swallowed, fiddling with her fingers, “I want… I just want to talk with you. I want to know why you think I’m some sort of imposter.” Among other things. Amelia wanted to understand what he’d gone through to make him so distrusting of her, she wanted things to go back to normal, the way they had been before the battle in Wakanda, and she wanted to hold Loki and have him hold her again, because she missed his soft and affectionate touches.

 

Rolling his eyes maliciously at her sincere display, Loki stood, his gaze shifting towards the exit of the room.

 

Amelia threw her hands up quickly, implicitly asking him not to leave just yet, “Wait! Are you hungry? I can order pizza and we can… talk…” Loki expelled a sigh of irritation at her insistence and moved to step around her, though he appeared relatively sluggish about it.

 

Without thinking, Amelia lurched forwards and clung to his waist, arms wrapping tightly around him to prevent him from leaving. Loki stiffened, a pained grunt escaping his mouth, and Amelia realised her action had inadvertently put pressure on his ribcage, which was still in the process of healing. Immediately, Amelia loosened her hold, taking a half-step back, looking more than apologetic.

 

“I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to- to hurt-” Loki cut her off by pushing her away by the shoulders, causing her to stagger back a few steps, “-Loki, please, _please_ don’t keep walking away from me…”

 

The rasp of his breath was audible now and his expression twisted and scrunched up as she tried to word her emotional appeal without stumbling over herself too much, but Loki refused to listen, shaking his head, barking out a sharp _“No!”_ in order to shut her up. “Just _leave._ Leave me alone, I need- I need to be _alone.”_

 

His eyes were dark and penetrating. It was not a request, it was a heavy demand, and the ferocity of Loki’s voice made Amelia’s heart sink to the ground. Doctor Banner’s words resonated in her mind, reminding her that she needed to be patient and give Loki space, something she had been adamantly _not_ doing since he’d woken up.

 

She was being selfish. Selfish and clingy and forceful. She was a grown woman and Loki needed time alone, she could stand to be apart from him for a little while longer.

 

Amelia’s gaze fell with shame and she lightly nodded her head, “I’m sorry, I’m… I’m sorry”, she whispered, and slowly turned to leave the room.

 

Her hand closed around the doorknob to pull it shut behind her, and she paused, glancing back over her shoulder as her mouth fell open. Loki stared hard at her from below his furrowed brow, and the desire to reassuringly tell the man _‘I love you’_ died on her lips.

 

She pulled the door gently shut.

 

* * *

 

When Loki had been allowed out of the infirmary, it was like taking the initial full breath after a fit of choking - a welcomed relief - in more ways than one. He’d been cramped in the room for days with nothing to do and instructed to rest, but sleep did not come so easily when the air was stagnant and smelling of chemicals. Thor had brought him one book - _only_ _one book, ugh -_ which Loki had read in less than an hour, and it had had an _awful_ ending. Incredibly anticlimactic. It only made him feel more restless.

 

If it wasn’t for his lack of strength and magic, he would have busted the door down and stormed out, but swift movements made him ache all over; his ribs were still weak from the damage done to them and he simply couldn’t summon the will to try and escape the room by way of trickery.

 

The moment Banner had informed him that he was free to leave the infirmary, he’d been out the door quicker than the doctor could finish his sentence. Banner had called out as he’d stalked away, iterating a few hurried conditions for Loki’s perimeter allowance and the consequences should he fail to adhere to them, and Loki had heard one or two words about being prohibited from leaving the premises - _for now_ \- but nothing beyond that.

 

He’d made his way quickly and stealthily to his room, but oscillated in place for a few moments, unsure of whether to enter or not. If Amelia was in there, she would undoubtedly decline to let him have peace, however, he’d wanted nothing more than to return to the room he’d come to think of as his home, with its abundance of reading materials, physical comforts and luxury. His desire to be in his own room won out and he entered the memorised access code, opening the door to take a step into familiarity.

 

The room had been empty, and Loki breathed a sigh of relief. For the next few hours, Loki sat within his reading nook, absorbing the light and warmth of the sun as he pored over a _good_ book until relaxation came more easily.

 

He hadn’t expected the tranquility to last in his nightmarish, Hel-induced reality, and so when the door flew open some time later to reveal Amelia, he wasn’t entirely surprised.

 

A pinch of curiosity dusted his consciousness regarding where exactly she had been all day, and he’d regretted immediately upon voicing the enquiry. Amelia - _no, this false and cheap imitation of her -_ had puckered her lips in the form of a pout, the way the _real_ Amelia always did whenever she got upset, and then she’d gone and mentioned his brother - _his brother, who had been nothing but utterly infuriating the last few days -_ and it had sparked that incensing flame in his mind. The implication that his brother had been the one to help and protect Amelia, and that Loki had been uselessly incapacitated, _irked him._ What were Hel’s endless, punishing visions trying to do? Make him jealous?

 

He shut the conversation down, snapping at the woman to leave, and when she didn’t, Loki simply up and left her there, stewing in misery, to find some other corner of the tower to curl up and enjoy some isolation.

 

Loki had been careful to avoid everybody when he could, leaving his _new_ room on the fifth floor only when he was sure everyone else was either asleep or absent from the tower in order to rifle through the kitchen cupboards for something to eat. He’d been careless one morning, that damned Black Widow having caught a glimpse of him returning to his room - how was he supposed to know that the woman awoke at _ridiculous o’clock_ to spend all morning training?

 

_Of course_ it had only been a matter of time before Amelia found him again.

 

With glassy eyes and a faltering voice, she’d begged him for some time to talk, and Loki had clenched his jaw, trying not to think of how accurately her body language mirrored that of his _real_ lover when she was distressed. As much as he didn’t want it to affect him, it pulled at his heartstrings.

 

_No!_

 

_Just leave._

 

_I need to be alone._

 

He’d snarled, trying to scare her away, but she showed no fear. Her face reflected only despair as she padded defeatedly to the door, giving him one last look that he challenged with a glower, inwardly pleading her not to say another word.

 

Her anguish was painful to witness.

 

Even in the quiet room on the fifth floor, sleep did not come to him that night. Loki tossed and turned in the bed, but the sheets were just as scratchy as the ones in the infirmary - they yielded no comfort, and he found himself desperately pining for his own bed. He was exhausted, and yet when he closed his eyes, there was no respite.

 

Around four o’clock in the morning, Loki kicked the unbearably rough sheets off of his body and pulled his weary form out of bed and into the deserted hallways of the Avengers Tower, wandering with uneven steps towards the elevator.

 

He must’ve been in an enervated daze, because he found himself standing in front of his and Amelia’s room without really retaining the knowledge of how he got there. All he knew was that he needed his mind and body to shut down for at least a few hours in order to function normally and aid his body in repairing itself, and there was nowhere he slept more soundly than _his_ room.

 

When the door opened, the sharp light of the outside hallway pierced through the darkness, illuminating Amelia’s snoozing form on the bed, and Loki paused, his ears picking up the soft sound of her sleep-addled moan as she subconsciously turned her head away from the source of brightness. If it hadn’t been for Loki’s shadow blocking out a large portion of the harsh glare, she may have been dragged involuntarily into wakefulness.

 

Loki closed the door, once again bathing the room in darkness, and moved towards the bed with soundless footsteps; his vision was superior to that of humans, and even in the pitch blackness, with scarcely a sliver of lunar light peering through the curtains, he could see Amelia’s face clearly. Her expression was even, lips parted as audible sighs escaped her, chest rising and falling at a slow and steady pace. The hem of her night shirt had ridden up to expose her belly, her hair was sticking out all over the place, and her body was sprawled, one arm extended across the bed to where Loki would usually be situated. Fingers curled, scarred palm facing upward, reaching for nothing.

 

He loomed above her, staring at her unstirring body, eyes trailing across smooth, pale skin; he reached down, hooking two fingers below the top of her pyjama shirt, and pulled the material down gently to expose more skin, and just below her right collarbone, Loki spied the small misshapen birthmark he’d had the sudden thought to look for.

 

Apart from the subtle loss of weight, this _imitation_ was identical to _his_ Amelia in every way - the marks and blemishes, the way her hair chose not to conform to anything vaguely presentable, the way she dominated the bed by stretching as far across it as possible while she slept.

 

The punishing illusions of Hel were becoming more precise, this was the most real the horrible visions had ever felt.

 

Loki pulled his hand back, eyes flitting to the space in the bed beside Amelia only briefly before he shook the inclination for warmth and comfort from his mind. He walked around the bed and laid back upon the recliner, gaze drifting across the dull, grey ceiling.

 

The room smelt like clean linen, with just an ebbing touch of vanilla, and Loki was out like a light within minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I'm torturing y'all with the sad bits, but I promise it starts to let up a tiny bit starting from the next chapter ;)
> 
> I want you all to know that I read EVERY SINGLE COMMENT that I get, and I try to respond to as many as possible. They truly brighten up my day and I GENUINELY squeal with excitement with each comment I read xD So I absolutely urge you to leave me a comment - even if it's just a few words, it still makes me happy!
> 
> If you find that you struggle to write comments, you could just tell me your favourite part of the chapter, what you want to see happen in this fic (I might be able to fit it in!), what you think is gonna happen, or just gush to me about Loki cause lets face it will all adore him <3
> 
> And don't shy away from leaving super long comments because like, that's comparable to receiving a huge bouquet of flowers - it fills me with utter joy. SO PLEASE DO COMMENT, PLEAAAASE!! <3


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter isn't as long as the previous one, only because I wasn't sure how else to end it with what I've got planned, so I apologise, but I hope you still enjoy this chapter!

Amelia awoke with a shiver. She became suddenly aware that her skin was exposed to the chilled air of the room and that she must’ve kicked the blankets away at some point during the night; her skin prickled with goosebumps as she let out a low, discomfited groan, reaching blindly for the bed cover so that she could pull it back over herself and trap the warmth to her body.

 

She shimmied further to the middle of the bed, habitually seeking the warmth of her lover, but remembered after a few moments of confusedly groping at the empty mattress that Loki was not in bed with her.

 

The rush of disappointment and sadness crept back into her mind from where it had receded during her blissful state of unawareness while she slept, and a yearning sigh was expelled from her lungs as she settled with curling up and pulling the duvet tightly around herself in order to simulate the cosiness she associated with cuddling up to Loki.

 

_ Patience.  _

 

There would come a time where Loki would learn that everything happening around him was  _ real,  _ and when that time came, he would surely return to her and hold her close, apologies spilling from his lips for pushing her away and treating her like she was some sort of counterfeit. Amelia would forgive him, as she always did, and reassure him that all was well again.

 

Despite feeling a little sleep-addled, Amelia couldn’t coax herself back into dreamland; her thoughts were restless enough that they wouldn’t allow her to drift off again, so she gave another sigh and peered out from under the covers at the digital clock sitting on her bedside table.

 

_ 7:04am,  _ the clock read, the soft green glow of the digits causing Amelia to squint. It was pretty early to wake given that she wasn’t required at work that morning, but now that her body had fully returned to consciousness, it was going to be exceedingly difficult to fall back asleep, and she might as well do something more productive than just lying in bed - like indulge in a nice, wonderfully hot shower, for example.

 

Now she just needed to muster the will to actually push the covers off of her body and suffer the room’s chill until she could step into steaming, cleansing water.  _ It was easier said than done.  _ Amelia began by sitting a little more upright, nudging the pillow back against the headboard so she could see the rest of the room beyond the pile of blankets she had shrouded herself in.

 

The room was still dark at seven o’clock in the morning, with only the slightest strip of blue-tinted light creeping in through the crack in the curtains. The sound of cars below were distant and it was a welcomed background noise - it seemed peaceful. 

 

Amelia’s eyes wandered around the room, passing over the door to the rest of the tower, the adjoined bathroom door, the full-body mirror, the desk, the couch-

 

It was something that occurred often to Amelia - the sudden, stabbing feeling of dread that took you when you spotted what looked like a figure in a dark room; specifically a figure you know shouldn’t have been present, or at the very least, wasn’t there when you last flipped the light on. Any other time Amelia had felt this, it was nothing more than a trick of the eyes - the way the faint light fell on certain objects, casting unusual shadows - but this time, she was utterly sure that there was a person lying across the couch.

 

Frozen in place, blood rushing past her ears - and then Amelia realised that it was  _ Loki  _ slumped across the sofa - she could recognise that wave of silky black hair a mile off - and the unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach promptly transformed into hopeful surprise.

 

She still didn’t move for several minutes. She felt that even the slightest rustle of fabric would jar Loki awake and he would immediately leave the room - it was as if he was a rare wild animal and Amelia needed to be as quiet as possible to avoid scaring him off - so she merely stared, observed, straining to spy the subtle rise and fall of his chest in the dim light of the room. 

 

He was curled slightly on his side, his long legs hanging somewhat off the end of the armrest despite his cramped position, and one of his hands was buried beneath the firm cushion his head was resting upon, the other draped over his stomach. Amelia frowned; the position did not look particularly comfortable, and she wondered why he hadn’t just slipped into the bed with her.

 

_ Because he still didn’t trust her, obviously.  _

 

A soft sigh escaped Amelia’s mouth and she began to shimmy gently to the edge of the bed, cringing with every creak of the mattress and scrutinising Loki to check whether or not her movements were bumbling and clumsy enough to rouse him. Regardless of the involuntary racket of the squeaking bed, Loki remained quiet and unmoving, encouraging Amelia to approach him with tentative steps.

 

She knelt by the couch when she reached him, a deep shiver wracking her frame -  _ she really did need to enquire to Tony about getting the goddamn heating going _ \- and gazed upon Loki’s face, his features slack with sleep. Anyone would think from just a look at his tranquil expression that he was free of any troubles, but the moment the man was awake, it was a different situation entirely.

 

A closer inspection, even in the dark, revealed the dusky shade of skin below Loki’s eyes, which only stood out further against his already pale face. He was exhausted -  _ had he not been sleeping well since awakening from his coma?  _ Amelia couldn’t have blamed him if that was the case given the stress his mind was being put through and the continuing belief he held that the world around him was some sort of mock-up.

 

She wished she could figure out a way to convince him of the truth. It pained her to be thought of as a disingenuous duplicate whose prime goal was to cause Loki’s suffering - she would never hurt him, and she couldn’t understand why he was so sure she was going to turn on him.

 

Amelia rose her hand, hesitant, her heart thumping in her chest. She didn’t want to wake him up, but she wanted to touch him, and from what she knew of the man, he was very easily roused from slumber. Oftentimes, he would awake from the faintest noises or the very slightest of movements, as she knew from the many times Loki had complained that she moved around a lot in her sleep, jostling him to consciousness. He never truly relaxed. Amelia was pretty sure that he didn’t even know what it meant to be in a  _ ‘deep’  _ sleep.

 

Of course, the only times she had trouble waking him immediately was when he was struggling in the depths of a nightmare -  _ typical.  _

 

She lowered her hand, applying only the lightest touch to brush his strands of black hair out of his face, and allowed her palm to cup the top of his head, caressing his scalp with minimal pressure. His brow twitched, but other than that, there was nothing to suggest that the action stirred him out of his rest. Amelia could only hope that he slept peacefully through the morning until he felt well-rested, and that his repose wouldn’t culminate in an awful nightmare, because the return of his bad dreams would surely make it harder to persuade Loki that she was real.

 

“I’m here, love”, Amelia whispered, “I’m right here.” It was all she could do to reassure him, and she hoped her words would pierce through the veil of sleep and settle into the extent of his subconscious, luring him into a more trusting nature.

 

She leaned down and placed a sweet kiss on his forehead, listening to the sound of his steady breaths, before deciding to snatch up a blanket from the bed and drape it over the sleeping god. Amelia knew that the cold didn’t affect him, but the warmth was kind, safe and comforting, and Loki needed that right now.

 

With one last glance to her lover, Amelia resolved to taking a hot shower in the conjoined bathroom.

 

* * *

 

Wakefulness came to Loki all too suddenly. It didn’t gradually invite him to consciousness as much as he simply realised he was asleep one moment and awake, staring at the ceiling in the next. He could already tell that it was still early from the tendrils of blue-toned light peering through the curtains, and that he’d only gotten about three and a half hours of rest - but it was enough. He’d fought strenuous battles on less.

 

He pushed himself into a sitting position, stretching and rotating his neck till it clicked, wincing inwardly at the twinges of pain in his muscles that soon ebbed away, and looked down at the soft, dark blue blanket that he’d only just noticed had been covering him.

 

Loki’s ears perked up moments later as he became aware of the noise of rushing water and melodious humming, faint behind the door that lead to the bathroom, and he put two and two together, his fingers curling in the fleecy material. Amelia must’ve laid it over him when she woke, and she must’ve been  _ particularly  _ careful not to wake him when she did so; Loki rolled his eyes. It was a pointless gesture. He did not feel the cold, he could comfortably sleep on a bed of ice with no repercussions; Amelia  _ knew  _ there was no need to shroud him with a blanket.

 

Still, it was definitely something the real Amelia would do regardless of that knowledge. 

 

He gripped the mass of cushiony fabric, drawing his fingers through it with a sigh. He picked the blanket up and inhaled its scent - it smelled like Amelia - before dropping it with a huff. He couldn’t let his guard down and get sentimental, not when it was so important for him to remain vigilant at all times.

 

Hel could spring wrath upon him at any moment. Loki needed to be ready to tackle it.

 

The God of Mischief rose from his makeshift bed, stretching till the satisfying sounds of tendons snapping into place was heard, and moved to take a step towards the mirror, but halted instead. He’d meant to peek at his reflection and judge whether he looked presentable enough to risk running into someone on his way back to the fifth floor where he could shower in the unused bedroom-bathroom in peace, or whether he looked too bedraggled to even step foot outside his current room - but a familiar feeling in his body made him pause.

 

It was familiar, and yet, he had not felt it in far too long. The habitual rush of energy - subdued until called upon - flowing through his veins as a reminder that he was a being of extraordinary power, capable of frightening feats and impressive persuasion.

 

His magic had returned. It was weak, but it was  _ there. _

 

Loki’s heart pounded in his chest; he needed to hone it, bring it out and shape it into something more powerful and reliable - right now it was inadequate, fragile, and felt like it could wither away again at any moment. He climbed eagerly onto the bed, situating himself in the centre, sat cross-legged, palms on his knees, and began to meditate.

 

With the help of a little meditation, he could latch on to the seemingly timid shred of magic and infuse it back into himself so that it wouldn’t wander away so carelessly again - only  _ then  _ would he feel assured enough to build it up to what it was before…

 

_ Before Thanos. _

 

Loki drew an affirming breath in through his nose and let it out slowly through his mouth, forcing himself to relax and concentrate on his task at hand instead of the Mad Titan that put him into his current predicament.

 

Eyes closed shut, Loki let his attention fall on the sounds and motions of his breathing, the way his chest expanded and contracted with each inhale and exhale, until the rest of the faint background noise -  _ the light patter of rain starting up against the window, the soft hum of Amelia’s voice in the shower, the rush of water flowing in the tub  _ \- receded into nothing, and Loki felt as though he was in the middle of a long sweep of blackness.

 

It was how all of his meditations began - encompassed in dark emptiness, it was the  _ ‘recommended way’  _ to meditate, according to the many books he read as a child in his bid to become a formidable sorcerer - but Loki could not concentrate in the pitch-black void. It reminded him far too well of the day he fell from the Bifrost and into the hands of something  _ terribly evil.  _

 

He pushed the thoughts away, instead welcoming the sensation of warm sunlight upon his skin, of tame wind blowing through his hair, and springy grass below him. The blackness mutated, bursting colours behind his eyes which took shape in his mind. 

 

_ Peacefulness, quietude.  _

 

Loki could feel the radiating warmth of sun rays on the back of his head, the air before him felt cooler and shaded. A forest? No,  _ smaller. _ A grove. He sat at the very edge of a grove. The trees were spaced apart, but tall-standing, the sprouting leaves casting enough shelter from the light above. 

 

After drawing a scene in his mind that left him relaxed and undisturbed, Loki directed his awareness to the vague buzz of magic inside himself. The energy felt sentient, fleeing away if he reached out to it too quickly, so he extended his hand to it like an invitation and waited for it to come to him, as though he was luring in a timid animal and needed to gain its trust. The spark of magic approached tentatively, curling its tendrils around his hand and up his arm, and when Loki closed his fist, it pervaded his body, imbuing into his veins and latching on to him, ready to be controlled.

 

It was with him again, and it wasn’t going to escape so easily the next time it thought to wander away.

 

A feeling of victory washed over Loki, a smile pulling at his face as he felt the vigour rush through him more fully. He still needed to strengthen it, but that wouldn’t be too difficult; a couple weeks of nonstop training would bring it back to its full potential.

 

_ “Well done, love”,  _ a chirpy sing-song voice proclaimed. It made Loki’s pulse jump wildly - the sound of Amelia’s joyful tone fluttering into his ears from behind, and for a few moments he struggled to perceive whether her voice was just a result of his trance-like state reproducing her soothing words or if Amelia’s corporeal form was addressing him.

 

If he were to open his eyes or turn his head, it would likely break his meditation - he wasn’t deep enough into the reverie that movement wouldn’t disturb it, so he remained still, waiting for the voice to drift by again.

 

The sound of Amelia’s gentle laughter followed, and Loki took a deeper breath, trying to ignore it and seize his focus back.

 

_ “You can’t ignore me forever”,  _ she stated without a hint of menace, and then Amelia appeared in his peripheral, circling around him to stand in his sights. Her floral summer dress reflected the warm atmosphere his meditation had summoned up, a direct contrast to the autumnal weather outside of his mind. 

 

His eyes followed her movements; Amelia twirled and walked like she was stepping on springy clouds instead of solid ground, swaying to an unheard melody, and Loki realised with a hint of irritation that his subconscious was trying to distract him - showing him things that the subliminal side of his brain wanted to see instead of the tranquil, isolated setting he preferred when trying to kindle his magic.

 

_ “Come dance with me, love”,  _ she spoke, extending a hand to him, but Loki’s thoughts remained in order.

 

“Ssshut up”, he whispered aloud with a distinct lack of diction - it sounded more like a mumble than anything - and Amelia pouted, placing her hands on her hips immediately.

 

_ “You don’t mean that. You want to dance with me!”  _ She exclaimed, and then smiled coyly,  _ “You want to hold me and kiss me”,  _ she stepped towards him and knelt, leaning forward till their faces were inches apart,  _ “Go on. Kiss me.”  _ Everything about her was playful, kittenish and  _ tempting,  _ but to move even an inch would fracture his focus and break the illusion.

 

Amelia looked expectantly at him, but after a few seconds, it became clear to her that he wasn’t going to obey, and her expression quickly turned sour.  _ “Fine. Don’t kiss me!”  _ She snapped, stalking back towards the large tree before them.

 

As she stepped behind it, Loki sighed in relief, assuming that the interposing distractions of his thoughts had come to an end, and that he’d managed to centre his mind once more on his important task of channeling his energy.

 

But then Amelia emerged again, cradling a bundle in her arms.

 

“No.” Loki firmly stated, willing the sight away, “Stop, now. Go away.”

 

Amelia smiled without mirth, rocking the bundle gently with every step, “What’s wrong, Loki?  _ Don’t you want to see your son?”  _ Dread permeated through him at her words, reminding him of the cruel vision he was forced to experience. 

 

His breathing quickened with rage and sorrow. “Do not take another step towards me”, Loki warned, the power in his veins fluctuating with his emotions.

 

The woman slipped to her knees, pulling back the blanket to reveal Leif’s face, his large and vibrant eyes, his soft little nose,  _ “Why,  _ Loki?  _ You promised to protect me - to protect us. But you let us die.” _

 

“No, I didn’t. You’re not real.”

 

“Loki, I am real”, she contended, and Loki’s gaze flitted to the grass where she knelt, watching as it began to burn, catching alight from nothing, the flames rousing and licking against her bare legs, climbing up her summer dress to consume her as they had in his Hel-induced vision.

 

“No…”

 

_ “Loki! Help us!”  _ Amelia cried suddenly,  _ “Save us!”  _ Her pained shouts were accompanied by the shrill cry of the infant in her arms as the two went up in flames; Loki felt his chest constrict, making it hard to breathe as he witnessed the scene his mind had fabricated.

 

“Amelia… Amelia”, her name left his mouth in a shaky exhale, an almost pleading inflection hidden in his tone.

 

“Loki,  _ please, it hurts-”  _ She was crawling towards him now, the screaming child still supported against her chest with one arm,  _ “Please, Loki, please- Loki,  _ Loki… Loki-” The terror in her eyes was piercing, pulling a choked noise of panic from his lips, and his breath was trapped in his throat when she reached out a burning hand and laid it upon his cheek.

 

“Loki?”

 

He recoiled immediately as his skin perceived the heat of her palm, falling back against the cushiony mattress and pillows on his bed in the Avengers Tower; his breathing came ruggedly, eyes wide and centred on Amelia, who stood at the foot of the bed, freshly dressed, hair damp with a towel hanging around her shoulders to catch the droplets, and her hand still hovering in mid-air where she had brushed her fingers against his face.

 

She was silent, lips twitching in a bid to form words and failing; it wasn’t until a few uncomfortably quiet moments had passed that she finally found the words she was looking for, “Are you alright, Loki?” The words escaped in a whisper, “Were you having… a nightmare?”

 

“No!” Loki barked in anger. “I was meditating”, he hissed in a brusque response, pinning the woman with an accusatory look, “You  _ ruined  _ it.” 

 

Amelia frowned, her jaw hanging open with incredulity, “You were- distressed, I thought I was helping-”

 

“Well you weren’t”, Loki interjected, shifting back till he was sitting up against the headboard of the bed, “I had it under control.” He could have regained his composure and pushed out the unwanted thoughts, but Amelia’s touch broke him out of his trance before he had the chance to exercise some self-discipline.

 

“You were calling my name”, Amelia murmured, sounding despondent and disappointed, “I thought you needed me…”

 

Loki opened his mouth to brashly respond, “I…” but he trailed off, the words catching in his throat, and he shook his head, skimming his fingers over his cheek where the sensation of Amelia’s touch still lingered. Warm and tingly. The remnants of his meditation-induced vision were quickly dispersing, and his anger diminishing.

 

He said nothing, lowering his eyes to the clenched fist in his lap. He needed to let off a little steam at some point - the training room looked like it was going to be his main destination for the day.

 

Amelia sighed, and slowly made her way towards the door, “I’m gonna go have breakfast… and, uh... I won’t bother you for the rest of the morning, if that’s what you want”, she spoke softly, clearly dispirited, “You should get some more sleep, love.”

 

Loki watched her leave the room, realising very suddenly that his eyes felt heavy and the woman must’ve have seen the exhaustion on his face. With a wordless grumble, Loki pulled back the covers and drew them over himself, grabbing Amelia’s pillow as an afterthought. It was imbued with her scent, offering minimal comfort, and he buried his face into it, figuring he could seize a few more hours sleep before putting all his time and energy into training for the next couple weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOW, I am totally aware that things have been moving real slow up until this chapter - starting from the next chapter, things are gonna pick up a bit and we'll actually get into the part of the story that I've been dying to write ;P
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Please leave me a little comment - it only takes a moment to let me know that you're all enjoying/are excited about this story and I'm not kidding when I say it powers my motivation to complete it <3


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm excited for the next few chapters!!! Things are changing up a bit, I hope you all enjoy this chapter!!

“You’ve been quiet, Thor.”

 

The rain surged down outside, crashing against the windows of the Avengers complex with impressive strength - it sounded almost like hail, but Amelia knew better. Her hair was still damp and her glasses somewhat misted from where she had narrowly avoided getting caught in the downpour on her rush home from work.

 

She’d been dashing around the corner when the drizzle began, knowing she had only moments before the black clouds above decided to burst, and now she felt vaguely uncomfortable in her not-quite-wet, not-quite-dry clothes, a slight shiver slithering up her spine every now and then.

 

The God of Thunder sat across from her at the kitchen island, his chin resting in one hand, and the  _ Venti Pumpkin Spice Latte  _ she had bought him in his other - he’d very recently taken a liking to them, and thus had asked Amelia almost every day for the past week to bring him one back on her commute from work - but at the present time, Thor seemed preoccupied with his thoughts. Usually he consumed the sugary, hot beverage within minutes, but it still sat in his hand, probably lukewarm by now, and paired with the sudden onset of storming weather outside, Amelia was smart enough to discern that he was most definitely troubled by something.

 

“Sorry, Amelia”, Thor spoke up, an apologetic smile pulling at his lips, “I have a lot on my mind.”

 

Amelia nodded in understanding; lowering her gaze to stare at the way Thor’s fingers rotated the cardboard sleeve around his cup absentmindedly. She had a pretty good idea of what had brought on the god’s gloomy mood.

 

“Is it to do with Loki?” She asked tentatively. It was her understanding that Thor and Loki had begun sparring with each other again at the beginning of the week - and every day since - so it stood to reason that Thor had experienced Loki’s detrimental demeanour firsthand.

 

Thor blinked, looking up from his beverage in surprise, before a sheepish look fluttered over his features; he averted his mismatched eyes to the kitchen counter and cleared his throat, “Uhm… well… I suppose I have been concerned about Loki’s behaviour, but it wasn’t the main thing on my mind…”

 

Amelia frowned, having trouble dissecting the oddly bashful look on the god’s face. Of course - she should have known by now that it was never practical to make assumptions when it came to the Asgardian brothers, but now she was more than curious as to what was  _ actually  _ bothering Thor, especially given the awkward body language he was now displaying.

 

“Oh”, Amelia murmured, tilting her head as her eyebrows rose, “Anything I can help with?”

 

Thor laughed - a reserved chuckle that vibrated in his throat - and there was a tinge of nervousness to it that piqued Amelia’s interest, “Ah, no, I don’t think so.”

 

He didn’t elaborate at first, but after a few moments of silent scrutiny on Amelia’s part, Thor gave a sigh and conceded despite his apparent embarrassment over the subject of his thoughts.

 

“I’m not quite sure how to put this without sounding…” he trailed off into another sigh, and the air around them suddenly felt very uncomfortable, “Ever since Jane and I broke up, I feel like I’ve been missing something…”

 

_ Oh.  _ Amelia bit the inside of her lip as the realisation hit her. Thor was  _ lonely.  _

 

Clearing her throat, Amelia spoke, “Oh, um, well… why don’t you… uh, you know, go out and find a nice girl…”

 

A skeptical spark appeared in Thor’s eyes and he shook his head, “No, it’s not that simple. I don’t just want a - a  _ fling,  _ as you humans call them. I want something more permanent”, he really seemed torn up about not having a romantic partner in his life, and the earnestness in Thor’s voice brought a small, sympathetic smile to Amelia’s face. “The only problem is…”

 

“The problem is, you’re Thor”, Amelia finished off, and the God of Thunder exhaled an amused huff before he rolled his shoulders and leaned in slightly to speak a little quieter.

 

“Yes. It’s difficult to find somebody who doesn’t want to sleep with me  _ just  _ because I’ve saved the world-” he paused for a moment, clearly counting in his head, “-four, five times?” It was rather comical that even Thor had lost count of how many times he had saved Earth from evil forces.

 

“Well”, Amelia looked deliberately thoughtful, “Can’t say I can relate”, she offered in jest by way of breaking the tension - in all truthfulness, Amelia would love to be able to tell people that she’s saved the world, but as it happens, the world didn’t grant her any sort of superpowers or genius-level intellect to do that with - she probably wasn’t the best person to give dating advice anyway.

 

Amelia leaned over the counter, laying her hand on Thor’s forearm in a comforting gesture, “Hey, look, you’ll find someone. And anyone would be lucky to have you, y’know, even if you weren’t an incredibly attractive hunk.” The God of Thunder smiled in both amusement and appreciation of her words.

 

In the corner of her peripheral, Amelia spotted movement, and her gaze flitted to the entrance of the living quarters where Loki now stood, sporting a dark glare in their direction. As their eyes met, Loki retreated and disappeared out of sight, prompting Amelia to stand suddenly, wavering on whether to follow after him of just leave him be. It was the first time she had seen him wandering about outside their room without the training room being his intended destination. Had he been looking for her? She couldn’t imagine Loki felt comfortable enough to sit around in the communal room given the presence of all the other Avengers in the compound, so he had to have come for a good reason.

 

Thor straightened up, having seen Loki for only a moment upon turning his head at Amelia’s stiff behaviour, and a grim look overcame him. “I’m unsettled by Loki’s behaviour.”

 

Amelia quirked an agitated eyebrow, a bleak expression befalling her, “Well yeah, he thinks we’re all imposters.” Loki’s beliefs about this reality had not faltered in any way - he still thoroughly seemed to believe that Amelia was not  _ truly  _ Amelia, but at the very least, he had stopped making an effort to completely avoid her overall. He still slept on the couch in their room, refusing to move any closer even after Amelia had tried to encourage him to come to bed.

 

“I mean in our sparring sessions”, Thor clarified, pausing to take a sip of his Pumpkin Spice Latte, which must’ve gone distastefully cold by now, but he didn’t seem to mind, “I’ve been  _ assisting  _ him in building up his magic energy as a training partner but… he’s disconnected. There’s just something…  _ empty  _ in his movements. I struggle to explain it”, his lips pulled into a deep frown, “He doesn’t see me as his brother. I’m just a punching bag to him.”

 

Amelia chewed on her bottom lip, absorbing Thor’s words with dismay - it wasn’t just her who was having trouble reaching through to the God of Mischief. Convincing Loki of the truth was going to have to be a group effort - if only Amelia knew  _ what  _ it would take to persuade him.

 

“How is he treating you?” Thor asked out of nowhere. Amelia blinked, focusing her gaze on him to find that he’d pulled the plastic top off of his Starbucks cup and was watching the contents swirl around as he swished it.

 

Her hesitance to speak was louder than words, and Thor peered up at her from below his brow, a cautious but dangerous look in his eyes, “He’s not abusing you, is he?”

 

“No”, Amelia immediately shook her head, “No. He’s not”, she breathed a sigh, “He’s just… my presence does nothing but irritate him. The other day, I was brushing my hair and humming to myself, he was reading in the corner of the room, and... he just told me to  _ shut the hell up.” _

 

It had upset her greatly at the time. She’d fallen quiet at once, pausing in her attempt to tame her wild tresses, shocked that he would demand such a thing - if her soft singing had ever bothered him before, he’d never addressed it - and her eyes had stung with tears as she stared at herself in the mirror. In the end, she had blinked the tears away and continued to wrestle with her locks in utter silence.

 

Now that she thought about it, she may have just made a big deal of nothing in her mind, “I know it doesn’t really sound bad, especially not in comparison to what you’ve noticed about him, but he’s never snapped at me for humming before. It’s just been… a lot of that. No attention or regard, he tries to blot me out and pretend I’m not there.”

 

Amelia had tried her best to be patient and understanding with Loki, but it was so difficult to be pushed aside like she was nothing.

 

Thor tightened his grip on the cup in anger, causing it to collapse in on itself and splash cold coffee all over his hand. Amelia jumped as he quickly stood, grumbling in displeasure, and in one swift movement, the god poured the remaining liquid in the sink, threw the cup away and swept up a hand-cloth to dry his fingers. “Don’t let him treat you like that, Amelia”, Thor stated with resolution as he scrubbed the coffee from his hands, “Stand up for yourself. Be firm with him.”

 

Amelia’s eyes widened and she snorted, “Are you kidding me? I’ve lost my edge, I’m not as intimidating as I used to be”, she joked.  _ She had never been intimidating in her life. _ “I don’t think I could be firm if I tried.”

 

Thor shook his head, though her jest brought a shadow of a smile to his face, “You don’t have to be intimidating… just persistent.”

 

Amelia cocked her head, deliberating on Thor’s words. Perhaps she had been too lenient with the God of Mischief - her gentle suggestions always made Loki scoff instead of having the desired effect. She needed to stop asking and start  _ telling. _

 

* * *

 

Loki seethed as he marched away from the living quarters, keeping his eyes and ears peeled for the billionaire CEO. He’d been looking for Stark, but instead he’d found his brother and Amelia having a sweet little conversation over a cup of coffee, far too close to each other for his liking. He’d only seen the back of Thor’s head, but Amelia’s expression had been glaringly saccharine, something that evoked a strong proprietorial feeling in his chest when directed at anyone other than himself.

 

Instead of causing a scene, he bit down on his anger and left immediately - what did it truly matter? It wasn’t really happening, it was just Hel’s way of making him suffer more, and he’d already decided he wouldn’t allow it this time. Amelia could spend as much time as she wanted with Thor,  _ it didn’t bother him in the slightest. _

 

Loki stepped into the elevator and punched the button that selected Stark’s lab as his destination, clenching his fists by his side as he waited for the steel doors to close at a maddeningly slow speed, and to then descend just as languidly.

 

“Stark”, the god hissed as the doors opened upon  _ finally  _ reaching his destination, and stepped into the bright, silvery room that was filled with various monitors and machinery that Loki did not care for in the slightest,  _ “Stark.”  _

 

Tony’s head popped up from behind a monitor at the far end of the room, his face the picture of surprise, along with a sliver of caution, over the fact that Loki had apparently decided to pay him a visit; he fiddled with something on the touch screen before him and then stood, casting a prudent sideways glance to Banner, who had turned his head in nervous curiosity.

 

Stark regarded Loki with nonchalance and a sprinkle of the usual charm that came when referring to his fellow Avengers with ridiculous nicknames, “Can I help you, Mr Wiseau?” Loki didn’t want to even acknowledge where this particular epithet had come from.

 

“I’m leaving the compound for a short while”, Loki went straight to the point.

 

Stark’s eyebrows rose up and again he shared a glance with Banner - if Loki didn’t know for certain that there was no psychic link between them, he may have assumed they were having some sort of telepathic communication.

 

“I don’t know, Loki…” the billionaire began, “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with the idea of you leaving the Tower just yet.”

 

“I wasn’t asking”, Loki retaliated, crossing his arms over his chest, “I was just informing you to ensure that you don’t interrupt my evening by chasing after me.” He ground his teeth together - just being in the man’s presence was enough to disturb his stress levels.

 

Tony did not look impressed, nor did he look acquiescent to allowing Loki this little piece of freedom. He let out a sigh, his hands falling on his hips in consideration, “If you hurt anyone, Loki, we’re dragging your ass back here and locking you up.” The lack of a degrading nickname revealed the seriousness of his statement, but it only brought forth a scoff from the God of Mischief, and nothing more.

 

Loki turned, leaving the lab, and stalked all the way to the exit, passing Steve Rogers on the way. The Captain stared at him, apprehensive and distrustful as Loki walked by, and Loki returned the eye contact with an unblinking glower.

 

The rain outside had weakened to a light drizzle, and Loki transformed his clothes as he stepped out of the foyer - the silken green of his Asgardian linens becoming the sleek black suit he used as his Midgardian attire, plus a formal coat of the same dark shade. He conjured an umbrella with twist of his forearm and took his first few strides into the fresh, misty air.

 

He hadn’t left the Tower since waking in the infirmary; the chilly breeze that accompanied the rain felt wonderful against his skin, and Loki took a few moments to just stand still and  _ breathe.  _ Within the compound, if felt stuffy and dusty, but out here, the smell of rain against the pavement left him feeling pacified, at least to an extent.

 

Bestowing a glance down the street, Loki began to walk.

 

Using the umbrella as a tool to hide his face from civilians, Loki walked to Amelia’s old apartment building and circled the perimeter. After that, he trekked to Central Park and sat on the bench by the pond for ten minutes, before making his way to the now-closed florist Amelia worked at, and finally to the pier at the edge of the city where he had first divulged his dark secret to the woman he loved.

 

He ingested every detail. Every carefully placed brick, every paving slab, every flower bed, every tree, street light, pedestrian crossing, newsstand,  _ everything and anything  _ that could have been  _ wrong -  _ standing out like a sore thumb _ \- but nothing was wrong.  _ It was all right - everything was  _ perfectly  _ in place, rendered to perfection as he remembered it.

 

Loki stared across the water, his eyes settling on the land across from Manhattan, over the large bridge -  _ how far did it go?  _ Was this artificial reality  _ infinite?  _ Would it continue to exist no matter how far he walked, or would there come a point where the illusion would shatter, and he would fall off the edge and further into the madness of Hel?

 

The God of Mischief turned around, staring back at the city that had become his home on Midgard. There were other ways he could break the illusion; he didn’t have to walk indefinitely when he could just level the entire metropolis with a devastating blast of magic - killing all in his path until Hel decided  _ ‘okay, that’s enough’,  _ and plucked him out of this delusion, dropping him seamlessly into another.

 

Or, he could locate the nearest bridge and jump off it. Although, the last time he purposely jumped from a high place, Hel had warped the very ground beneath him - a harrowing experience for the god in and of itself. He much preferred the deceptive  _ ‘peace’  _ of this world while it lasted when compared to what it  _ could _ be.

 

Loki inhaled a deep breath, exhaled a noisy sigh, and allowed his feet to lead him back the way he came.

 

By the time the god returned to the Avengers Tower, it was quite late; he didn’t run into anybody as he swept through the halls soundlessly, locating the elevator and riding it to his floor. When he entered his and Amelia’s room with soft footsteps, he paused, looking down at the woman where she lay on her back, her lips parted ever so slightly.

 

He could tell from the way her chest rose and fell at an unsteady pace that she wasn’t actually asleep, and was in fact pretending. The pulse in her neck jumped when he stepped closer to the bed and stared at her. Her eyelids twitched but did not open, and Loki gave an audible huff of amusement. She wasn’t fooling anyone.

 

Regardless, he didn’t bring attention to it and stripped out of his damp clothing to change into more comfortable sleep attire. With his back turned, he could feel Amelia’s eyes on him, so he purposely did not look her way.

 

When he laid back against the couch, she finally spoke up.

 

“Come to bed, Loki”, her voice was soft, and held a pleading lilt.

 

“No”, Loki said simply, and fell asleep some time later.

 

* * *

 

It was impossible for Amelia to sleep that night; she’d spent the whole evening worrying about where Loki had gone upon learning that he’d left the Tower, and when he finally  _ had _ arrived home, breaking into the early hours of the morning, she had lost her nerve and pretended to be asleep instead of doing what she had planned to do - to  _ tell  _ Loki to quit sleeping on the couch.

 

Then, of course, she’d regretted not coming out with the assertion the moment he’d walked in through the door, and had tried one pitiful attempt to get him to lay down beside her - and  _ of course  _ it hadn’t worked.

 

So she laid in silence for several hours, shifting every so often to stare at Loki’s motionless form curled up on the couch where he slept, and let her mind wander in the far-from-peaceful quiet of the night.

 

At least, until Loki inhaled sharply and rolled onto his back, his face contorted in distress. 

 

Amelia knew in an instant that he was experiencing a nightmare, it was all too clear - she remembered the vivid signs of discomfort, the way she often jolted awake with his sudden movements and choked noises to find him clutching tightly at bedsheets or throwing his arms up defensively against some invisible force. 

 

This time, Loki’s fist was grasping at the material of his nightshirt in the centre of his chest, his knuckles turning white from the tension in his grip. His eyes were rigidly shut, brow furrowed as he drew in faltering, cut off breaths interjected with stifling gurgles of what sounded like pain.

 

Amelia rose from the bed, cautionary and frightfully aware of how suddenly he could awaken and lash out. 

 

“Loki”, she called out to him gently, “Love, it’s a dream.”

 

He did not awaken, but let out a suffocating whine that preceded a whimper; Amelia stepped closer, kneeling down beside the couch, and touched his head as she spoke his name again, trying to cease his attention and pull him from the nightmare slowly.

 

Loki coughed out a strangled  _ ‘no’,  _ and struggled to breathe deeply - quick and shallow breaths escaped his throat that were simply not comforting enough. A weak cry of pain passed his lips, and in the same moment, tears lined Loki’s tightly shut eyes, revealing the emotional nature of his nightmare.

 

“Shh, Loki. Wake up, I’m here-”

 

_ “Amelia…”  _ He sniffled her name as his eyes cracked open, glossy and clouded, and Amelia’s immediate instinct was to flinch as he released his shirt and made a grab at her.

 

But his hand merely cupped her cheek with compassion and tenderness; she sunk gently against his palm after a tentative moment, pressing her own hand to the back of his - it was the first time he had touched her with anything other than hostility or disdain since waking from his coma, and her heart leapt into her mouth.

 

“I’m here”, she whispered, pouring all the love and solace into her voice that she could possibly muster, “It was just a nightmare, love.”

 

And then,  _ clarity. _ His eyes opened wider, gaze sharpening as he remembered where he was, and then he tore his hand back, pushing her away before wiping his wet face with the sleeve of his shirt.

 

_ “Get away”,  _ he hissed as Amelia fell back on her ass, momentarily stunned at the speed with which his mood drastically changed.

 

“Loki, please-”

 

_ “No”,  _ the hostility had returned, snatching away that brief tranquil moment that Amelia had tried to hold in place. The God of Mischief averted his gaze, hiding his face from her with malcontent.

 

“Loki.”

 

He shook his head, laying down again, actively facing the back of the sofa as he tried to ignore her, but Amelia didn’t let him - not this time.

 

She grabbed him by the shoulders, forcing him to look at her, “Come to bed, Loki.”

 

His eyes shut wearily and his fingers enclosed around her wrist in warning, “I said  _ no,  _ I’m not going to-”

 

Amelia jolted him with a rattle of his shoulders, _“Just get in the goddamn bed._ This couch is not comfortable enough for sleeping; you’re forcing yourself to curl up on it every night and it’s _not helping_ because you like to sleep _stretched out,_ I _know that for a fact._ The more relaxed your body is, the less nightmares you’ll have, so stop being a brat and just _get in the bed.”_

 

Loki stared up at her, vaguely startled by the forcefulness in her voice, and for several moments Amelia expected him to respond negatively again. The fingers on her wrist tightened… and then he released her and sat up, nudging past her as he stalked over to the bed and slipped under the covers without a word.

 

Amelia’s lungs expanded as she took a breath of victory at this development.

 

_ Good. _

 

She rounded the other side and returned to her side of the bed, reaching over to give Loki’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze, but upon contact he tensed.

 

“Don’t touch me”, he whispered, so Amelia retracted her hand and settled down against her pillow, wondering how exactly she was going to sleep without inevitably rolling over to Loki’s side to subconsciously seek out his warmth.

 

Well, regardless of that, it was still  _ progress. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE do leave me a comment!!! Even if it's just a few words, all the comments make me smile! <3


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHHHHHHHHH THIS CHAPTER WAS SUPPOSED TO BE OUT LAST WEEK BUT LOADS OF THINGS CAME UP SO IT WAS DELAYED, I'M SO SORRY MY LOVELIES!!!! <3 I hope I didn't frustrate you all TOO much by taking a little longer to update! This chapter has a little more length than the previous few so I hope that'll make up for it ;)

It was tremendously difficult trying to help somebody who did not want to be helped.

 

As a survivor of trauma, Amelia was well aware that taking your frustrations out on friends would quickly ensure that you were left completely and utterly alone - digging a hole of isolation that would only deepen the longer it lasted. The deeper it became, the more onerous it would be to pull yourself out of that depressive seclusion.

 

She understood how Loki felt, but Amelia also knew that his own actions were doing _nothing_ to aid him in his recovery.

 

 _‘I know you’re shutting me out as a defense mechanism, but it’s not helping either of us. Please come home. We can talk’,_ Amelia fired off the text in a moment of boundless exasperation and regretted it immediately. It wasn’t her place to play therapist for Loki, and he would no doubt find her words to be incredibly patronising.

 

 _‘I’m sorry’,_ she sent in a separate message, _‘I’m just worried about you.’_

 

He’d been away for hours, according to Tony; Loki had left the Avengers compound some time after lunch and still hadn’t returned by the time Amelia had gotten home from work - at least five hours later - and she’d grown increasingly anxious over his whereabouts, eventually grabbing her phone to enquire intrusively as to where he had gone.

 

Loki didn’t respond, obviously, and Amelia wasn’t even sure whether or not he was even reading her texts or ignoring them altogether.

 

With slightly shaky fingers, she typed out a fresh message, ‘I love you’, and stared at it for twenty drawn-out seconds before backspacing and changing it to _‘I miss you’,_ sending that off instead. She felt her emotions tugging at her heart, feeling rather ashamed that she couldn’t work up the courage to tell Loki those three loving words. Whenever she found herself wanting to say it, the image of Loki scoffing with disdain always popped into her mind, and she always stalled herself, cutting herself off before the proclamation left her throat.

 

She couldn’t bear the thought of telling Loki that she loved him if it meant he would express his disgust and turn his back.

 

Amelia thought she had been making progress when she’d finally convinced Loki to sleep in the same bed with her again, but less than a day later, he’d gone back to keeping distance, acting like he didn’t care that Amelia spent every minute away from him wondering whether or not he was okay.

 

It was hard, because Amelia knew to an extent that it was important for Loki to have his privacy, to be alone with his thoughts so that he could deliberate on his actions, and on the reality he believes to be fake. As much as Amelia didn’t want to leave him alone, perhaps some solitary time _would_ be beneficial.

 

 _‘I’m going to cook a meal. If you’re back in the next half hour, you’re welcome to have some…’_ Amelia compromised, giving Loki the offer to return - it was up to him whether or not he would accept it. She breathed a sigh, hoping that the promise of a home-cooked meal would perhaps be enough to sway him into coming back for the evening.

 

 _She really wanted to coax him into sleeping beside her again._ Even if they hadn’t been cuddled up to one another, merely having the weight and warmth of him on the other side of the bed was a comfort.

 

“Any luck getting hold of him?” Tony enquired, though he probably knew the answer already thanks to the heaving volume of Amelia’s disappointed exhale.

 

“He’s not responding at all”, she murmured dispiritedly, looking up over the kitchen island to where the man was lounging back on the couch and taking a rare moment to relax a little.

 

“That’s unfortunate. Perhaps he turned his phone off?”

 

Amelia knew Tony was only trying to ease her worries, but the idea that Loki had just blocked out her efforts of communication left her feeling more hurt than consoled.

 

“I’m gonna cook dinner tonight”, Amelia proclaimed - preparing food was one of the few things she liked to do when she needed a distraction, “I’m making spaghetti bolognese, you wanna have some?”

 

Tony smiled appreciatively, “Thanks but no thanks, kid. Pepper and I are having a lunch date tomorrow and I’d rather my breath didn’t smell like garlic the whole time.”

 

Amelia snorted, nodding her head, and turned to Thor who had visibly perked up from his position at the bar across the room when she had mentioned her intent to cook, “What about you, Thor, you want some?”

 

The God of Thunder smiled brightly, “Oh, well if you _insist!”_

 

* * *

 

Loki trudged in through the glass doors of the Avengers compound, entering the foyer with a sneer at the security guard who frowned at him with clear contempt. He paid the receptionist woman no mind as she looked up from her computer monitor and stared at him until he entered the elevator, tapping the number of the desired floor absent-mindedly. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone to finally read the slew of texts he had received throughout his peaceful walk - _he’d turned his phone to silent after first two_ \- and released an aggravated sigh at the notification on the screen.

 

_You have 14 unread messages._

 

Why couldn’t Amelia just let him have some time to himself? It wasn’t as though he’d been gone for days - it had only been a few hours at the most - so why did she constantly demand to know where he’d gone, what he was doing, why he wasn’t responding to her messages, when he’d be back, why he was ignoring her, _who, what, when, where, why?_

 

The truly antagonising thing about having people around him on a constant basis was that he _apparently_ had to inform them of where he was going and how long he’d be gone. People _noticed_ when he wasn’t there, and it infuriated him - having people continually questioning his activities and whereabouts was _exhausting._ There was a time during his younger days on Asgard where he could disappear for days at a time and nobody would really bat an eyelid, merely inferring that he had gone on a hunt or a quest of sorts, or even just taking some time to travel.

 

Amelia was so _frantic._ So _anxious_ about everything. He’d only gone for a walk in Central Park - strolling through to just observe things and people going about their business. He wasn’t sure why, or what he was looking for, but he felt somewhere inside himself that he was still just searching for a discrepancy - something out of place, some _proof_ that this was all a lie; Hel couldn’t have made this illusion perfect, surely there had to be _something_ that stood out.

 

But the lack of any obvious disparities made him all the more frustrated.

 

And then there were the final few texts where Amelia seemed to have discerned that her onslaught of messages were unreasonable and that she didn’t need to bombard him with questions whenever he wasn’t around for longer than a couple of hours.

 

The last text caught his eye - she’d promised to cook for him if he arrived back within the half hour. In all honesty, Loki was hungry, and it had been a while since Amelia had decided to cook something of her own instead of relying on Stark’s employed chef to rustle something up; _his_ Amelia was a good cook - Loki always grew excited over the prospect of tasting Amelia’s homemade dishes in his own clandestine way - but whether or not Hel’s illusion of her would also make such fine cuisine remained to be seen.

 

Perhaps if he tasted it, and it was terrible, he would know for certain that this world was as far from reality as it could get.

 

He checked the time - _thirty-eight minutes since she’d sent the text. Hm._ He may have missed his window of opportunity.

 

The elevator reached its floor and Loki stepped out; already he could smell the delightful scent of cooked food, far more appealing than anything else he’d eaten in the past few weeks, and it put a slight pep in his step as he walked to the living quarters. When he reached the entrance, however, he was once again greeted with the sickening sight of his brother and Amelia sitting beside each other at the table, faces lit with joy and contentment as they both ate the meal that Amelia had _promised_ to him.

 

Hel was _really_ testing his restraint.

 

The first impulse that came to him was to launch a fizzling projectile of magical energy right at Thor’s disgustingly cheerful face, and the second was to grab Amelia and drag her all the way back to their room just to keep everybody else away from her - but he didn’t let either of these urges control him. Instead, he stood in place, teeth grinding together almost painfully as he regarded the sight with utter resentment, waves of anger resonating off of him - really, he was surprised it took Thor so long so take notice of his presence.

 

“Brother”, the God of Thunder greeted when he detected him, expressing a look of concern at the ripples of wrath no doubt emanating from his body. The placid look on Amelia’s face immediately fell at the sight of him and she stood slowly, looking very much like she wanted to say something, but the God of Mischief cut her off.

 

“No, please, don’t let me interrupt this romantic little dinner you’re having”, Loki hissed, watching as the woman’s eyes widened with the implication.

 

“It’s not like that and you know it”, Amelia stated, her brow furrowing and lips forming a small pout from the incredulity of Loki’s quip.

 

“I think it’s quite obvious what’s going on here”, Loki insisted, a dangerous, false smile on his face, “You found someone better to take my place?” Amelia’s jaw dropped at the accusation, a look of genuine disbelief on her face, and given the circumstances, it made Loki feel _great;_ calling the woman out was the perfect vent for all his current frustrations.

 

Thor stared at him blankly, lips pursed, and shook his head; Amelia pulled her glasses from where they rested on her nose, dropping them on the dining table before dragging her hands down her face, taking a deep and audible breath before letting it out slowly. When she spoke again, her voice was low and tight.

 

“Loki. I asked if you wanted any and you didn’t reply. I just assumed you didn’t want to join me for dinner”, she hissed through gritted teeth, eyebrows arched in a way that made her look far from happy.

 

“You should know by now that your assumptions are _always_ wrong, Amelia”, Loki retorted, just as heated, the need to jeer at the woman rising out of nowhere.

 

 _“Well if somebody had given me a fucking clue-”_ Amelia slammed her fist down on the hard surface of the table, the resounding thwack echoing throughout the room and down the hall, ensuring that anybody else on the communal floor most definitely would have heard it, “-then _maybe_ I could’ve waited a little while longer for you to return and we’d all be sat here happily eating _together!”_

 

Her tone changed thoroughly to mocking part-way through her sentence as she pinned him with a vehement glower that could rival even _his_ if it weren’t for the way her eyes grew shiny with unshed tears.

 

Thor stood, placing a conciliating hand on Amelia’s shoulder - _Loki’s eyes twitched at the contact_ \- and spoke softly in an attempt to diffuse the tension, “Loki, you’ve misunderstood completely. Whatever relationship you believe Amelia and I to have, I can assure you that it is not what you think.”

 

Loki’s fists clenched at his sides; the sight of Amelia looking to Thor for comfort piqued his temper. “Then take your hand _off_ of her, brother.”

 

Thor’s eyes narrowed, lips pressing together thinly as he slowly shared a look with Amelia, one that vexed Loki hugely, because it was full of silent questions. Amelia looked miserable, pulling her lower lip between her teeth to try and convince herself not to cry, and eventually she shook her head faintly, as if sharing a telepathic dialogue with the God of Thunder.

 

Immediately, Thor turned back to Loki. “I think we need to talk, Loki.”

 

Loki’s mouth twitched, pulling into a wry smile despite his seething anger, “Is that so? Well then, follow me to the training room, and let’s _talk.”_ He fastened his gaze on Amelia once more, eye contact blazing with outrage between them, and left the room without awaiting Thor’s response, confident that his brother would follow.

 

The underground space was not vacant when Loki arrived; Natasha and Steve sparred for practise in one corner of the room while Clint refined his skills with a bow and arrow in another corner, shooting multiple swiftly-moving targets with hardly an effort.

 

The God of Mischief ignored them while he found his own space, changing his clothes into Asgardian wear with only a wisp of a spell, before clearing his mind of rage and focusing his magic, using the anger that had built up to fuel his energy until it was rolling off of him in waves.

 

“Loki.” His brother’s voice came from behind him after some time; Thor had followed him. _Good._ He would ensure the oaf did not touch Amelia again.

 

Turning swiftly, Loki launched himself at the other, his clenched hand pulled back to deliver a hefty blow to Thor’s jaw, but the God of Thunder caught the punch in his palm, arm shaking from the force it took to hold Loki’s fist at bay. His mismatched eyes stared Loki down, his expression that of a vexed clown, loutish and fraught with displeasure.

 

“There is something _seriously_ wrong with you if you think-”

 

Loki’s other fist pulled back, poised in the air to strike Thor square in the face, and the movement made the God of Thunder flinch, dropping his statement mid-sentence as his body tensed to seize the second punch before it could hit its target, but instead of jabbing his brother in the face, Loki took the opportunity to knee him in the stomach.

 

Thor barely had time to grunt as he doubled over before Loki continued the assault with an elbow to the back of his neck. It was satisfying to watch the oaf fall for the misleading trick, as he had done many times in the past, and even more so to watch him cough and splutter from the strike.

 

“By the gods, Loki, _stop with the fight and just listen to me for once.”_

 

The commotion between them appeared to have garnered an audience; the attention of the three other Avengers in the room had been drawn away from their sparring and practises, and they were now looking curiously towards the quarreling brothers, but Loki cared not. He only had one thing on his mind: putting Thor in his place.

 

“You never have anything enlightening to say, brother, why should I listen?” Loki responded in a rigid tone. He held cold eye contact as Thor rose back up to his full height while cautiously rubbing the back of his neck, “You’re a fool if you think I’m going to sit still and listen to you _talk_ after you and Amelia-”

 

“Oh for _gods’ sake,_ Loki, _you’re the fool!”_ Thor shot back, his voice saturated with exasperation, but all Loki heard was the grating sound of idiocy, and he flung a magical projectile right into the oaf’s chest, watching him slide backwards as the force almost toppled his balance.

 

 _“Loki,_ Amelia would never be-” Thor paused to bounce out of the path of another ball of fizzling energy, “-be unfaithful. You _know_ that! Why would I want to ruin your relationship with her?”

 

Three blasts in quick succession forced Thor to fling himself aside, throwing his focus for mere moments, but it was quick enough for the other to grasp the opportunity and charge his brother. Loki’s undeviating blows clashed with Thor’s palms once more and they both struggled for the upperhand. Thor was unaffected by Loki’s attempt to trip him with a leg sweep, and he put an end to the senseless grappling by smashing his forehead into his brother’s nose.

 

Loki staggered back with a hand over his face, a strangled grunt escaping his throat from the pain spreading over the bridge of his nose. He _hated_ that move.

 

“If anything, _you’re_ ruining what you have with her, Loki”, Thor declared, preparing himself for the moment Loki would surge forwards again, “I wouldn’t be surprised if you pushed her too far. She knows she deserves someone that won’t treat her the way you have been treating her.”

 

Again, Thor narrowly dodged the projectile Loki flung his way, but was clearly put off by the radiating heat of it as it marginally missed his head. He turned, breaking eye contact like a moron, to check that it didn’t burn a hole through the steel wall across the room when it collided with the surface. Loki took the chance to multiply, calling upon his illusionary magic to create two perfect clones of himself.

 

When Thor turned his head again, he knew he’d made a mistake.

 

“Someone like _you,_ brother?” Loki’s resentful tone reflected his dark mood, he didn’t even bother to keep the scathing hiss out of his voice as he spoke. Thor looked mildly discomfited over the fact that Loki and his two clones all spoke in unison.

 

“I told you, Loki. There is nothing between Amelia and I.”

 

His brother looked and sounded genuine, but Loki had _seen_ their interactions over the past few days. He knew the gentle affections and bright-eyed looks between them meant something, and it made him want to gag. It also made him want to slice the God of Thunder to pieces.

 

Loki attacked Thor again, but this time it was made far more difficult for the other given that the mischievous god was now coming at him from three separate angles, and the phantom assaults from two of those angles were entirely intangible.

 

Thor could only take so many hits before he grew aggravated enough to take a chance and lash out at one of the three copies of his brother. He picked poorly, his fist piercing through the illusion of Loki’s first clone, and flinched upon trying to defend from the false attack of the second clone.

 

Loki gave his brother a hard kick to the groin, barking out a venomous laugh as the oaf fell swiftly to his knees, and while Thor was down, he summoned a dagger, grabbed a handful of blond hair and poised the blade his brother’s throat. Thor’s shoulders tensed up and Loki pressed the sharp tip of the blade just a little bit harder into his neck by way of warning him not to try anything.

 

Loki dispersed his remaining clone, hand tightening against Thor’s scalp and the other man growled, arching his neck minutely away from the dagger. He seemed wholly aware that any movement on his part could spell danger for him, and he was right - Thor’s life was in Loki’s hands. Loki could drag the blade across Thor’s skin and slit his throat in a fraction of a second, and it would swiftly be over for him.

 

“I yield”, Thor hissed through gritted teeth, a hint of bitterness to his tone and frustration in his expression. He clearly expected Loki to let up at the admission, but the God of Mischief did no such thing, holding the blade in place as he regarded his brother with a cold, detached stare.

 

“Let him go, Loki.”

 

Loki had forgotten about the audience they shared, and his tunnel vision deteriorated at the sound of Steve Roger’s voice; the noise of blood rushing past his ears and his own laboured breathing grew more prominent all of a sudden and he forced himself to take steeling breaths, noticing the clutch of his hand was shaking around the hilt of his dagger.

 

“Loki, _I yield”,_ Thor repeated, a flicker of apprehension in his mismatched eyes as he discerned Loki’s hesitation. The God of Mischief ground his teeth together, his eyes flicking to his white-knuckled grip on the blade, and he realised for the first time in a long time, he felt _in control_ of a situation.

 

 _He_ could determine the outcome. The feeling that hit him was like a flood of adrenaline, and it took him a moment to deliberate on _why_ it felt so abnormal to have that power.

 

He’d forgotten. Loki had forgotten that it was all just a lie - that he was doomed to live through Hel’s realities forever. It had somehow slipped his mind; the rage of finding Thor and Amelia enjoying each other’s company just a little _too_ much had overpowered his belief that everything was just a fiction, and for a few short minutes he had felt… _awake._ Sober. Free of the formidable dream-state that had been looming over his mind ever since he came to consciousness in the Tower’s infirmary.

 

And with the fleeting bout of clear-headedness, a spark of doubt squeezed through, if only for a brief second.

 

The reminder that he was still trapped in a Hel-induced synthetic reality caused Loki to spiral back into a state of hazy despondency.

 

“Drop the dagger”, came a voice to his left, and Loki turned his head slightly, staring at the point of a sharp arrow aimed directly between his eyes. Clint Barton was very much ready to kill him; it seemed he was delighted to have a good excuse to do so. Not that Loki expected anything less from the man he had brainwashed and mind-controlled years prior.

 

“Loki”, Thor groused, “Amelia and I are not romantically involved. You know I would never try to take her from you. _You know.”_

 

Loki blinked slowly. His clasp on Thor’s hair loosened as the dagger fell away from his throat, and his brother slipped away from him, pushing himself to his feet as he rubbed the tender area of his neck where the blade had lightly nicked him.

 

“She… cooked for you…” Loki murmured, a trace of accusation in his tone, but it was addled with confusion.

 

Thor scoffed. “It’s because we are _friends,_ Loki. Friends do nice things for each other. I know that’s difficult for you to understand since you’ve never had any”, the God of Thunder paused his sneer, a hint of regret seeping into his expression for no more than a fraction of a second before he continued exasperatedly, “but just because Amelia and I show each other kindness, doesn’t mean we’re having some sort of affair behind your back.” He waved a perfunctory hand at Clint, who lowered his weapon in response.

 

Loki stared at Thor, eyes twitching at the revelation in his brother’s words.

 

“You’ve been ignoring her, treating her like dirt, ever since you woke up from your coma”, Thor proceeded, a grimace on his face when his fingers came away from his neck sticky and red with smudges of blood. The cut had been incredibly fine. “Are you really surprised that she’s spending more time with me? She’s looking for reassurance and compassion in others because she sure as Hel isn’t getting any from you.”

 

Loki’s eyes fell shut for a steeling minute and he breathed steadily, attempting to banish the sickly feeling growing in his stomach, but realised only moments later that it was not sickness - it was dread. The suggestion that he’d pushed Amelia away - hurt her, even - was enough to fill him with trepidation.

 

But then he shook his head. No. It wasn’t real. Was it? _No._ It couldn’t be real.

 

The dagger in Loki’s hand disappeared and he turned away from Thor, looking down at the palm of his hand where the the hilt of the blade had left a slight imprint in his skin.

 

Loki had not yet seen anything that indicated the world around him was a fiction, and he _had_ been looking, searching vigilantly for inconsistencies in everything. Therefore, he could not actually say with one-hundred percent certainty that it wasn’t real. He simply found it easier to believe Hel still had him in his clutches, that he was already dead and still suffering from his lifetime of sins. A shiver wracked Loki’s frame, so fierce that the four other occupants of the room seemed to step back and grow taut, ready to defend themselves if he were to suddenly attack them.

 

It was easier for Loki to believe that the moment he began to entertain the possibility that everything was _real,_ the world would collapse and he’d be drawn back into the agonising fire.

 

Despite being the cause of everybody’s discretion, Loki walked away without giving them a second glance. He travelled up in the elevator, exited on his floor and made his way absently to his room where Amelia had already situated herself. She was lying in bed when he entered, watching some sort of sitcom on television, but she soon shuffled and pushed herself up on her elbow, pinning him with a look that was clearly very unhappy, as he walked through the door.

 

A few seconds of silence passed; when it became clear to Amelia that Loki was not going to say anything, she murmured a quiet enquiry, “Are you thinking more rationally now that you and Thor have had your dumb, stupid fight?” There was a tremor in her voice that implied restrained anger.

 

Loki didn’t answer her; he averted his gaze, mind still reeling as he tried to inwardly pick apart the fabric of this reality, inspecting each and every thread even more thoroughly than before - he needed to choose. Was this world real of fake? _What was the truth?_ He needed more time to think, which meant he needed peace and quiet.

 

“Here’s a fucking newsflash, Loki”, Amelia snapped following his extended speechlessness, “You don’t get to demand other men keep their hands off me and then pay me absolutely no attention!” Her eyebrows were furrowed in irritable indignation and her voice was bolstered - it was obvious that she was in no way going to let his behaviour go anytime soon.

 

Loki flexed his hands by his sides, turned around and walked out of the room. He remained stationary for a brief period upon shutting the door, and heard the telling, muffled sound of Amelia yelling in frustration.

 

There was only one place he knew where he would find even the slightest bit of solace without having to worry that someone would barge in and disturb him.

 

Loki couldn’t find the will in himself to take the elevator back down to ground floor and leave the Tower, so the next best place he knew he could find some peace of mind was the garden he had created for Amelia - the one very few people knew about - and the one he hadn’t visited in some time.

 

_The ex-helicopter pad Garden was a sorry sight._

 

It was raining, cold and hard drops of water spattering against the concrete tiles; Loki could see the white cloud of breath before his face every time he exhaled, and the entire place just looked… drab and drowned. It was no longer bursting with vibrant colours and beautiful blooms; instead it was marred with muted greys - muddy and watery - with old, dead petals littering the deck.

 

The garden appeared lacklustre, abandoned and neglected, and the thought pulled at his heart - he wasn’t sure he had even seen Amelia come up here in a long, long while. It looked like she no longer cared for it. Loki clenched his fists, trying not to let the notion bother him; he stepped out into the rain and sat on the soaked wicker bench in the middle, unperturbed by the cold rainwater that seeped through his trousers - the area had once been surrounded by carnations and clematis, but now it was enclosed with lifeless stems and pots full of loamy sludge.

 

This _could_ have been proof that he was trapped in a false dimension. Amelia would never willingly neglect the gift he had given her on her twenty-ninth birthday, would she? _Would she?_ Loki didn’t know anymore. He didn’t know what to believe.

 

The rain falling from the dark grey clouds saturated his hair and clothes, making them uncomfortably clammy, but he couldn’t muster the desire to move - not while his mind struggled to make sense of everything.

 

Loki held out his hand, watching the raindrops gather in his open palm, before rotating it to let the converged water dribble from his hand to the already drenched concrete; he repeated this several times, finding that he could not concentrate even with the lack of distractions in the open area.

 

The lights of the city looked beautiful, as always, but Loki could not take the time to appreciate them, and he forced himself to dwell back on his fight with Thor.

 

What would have happened if he’d sliced Thor’s throat? Would the world have been torn apart before his very eyes and reassembled as eternal fire once Hel’s jig was up? Would his brother have fallen down dead for real, only for Loki to drop down soon after with an arrow through his head - courtesy of Barton?

 

The only thing that had stopped him from trying was the knowledge that, if everything was _real,_ he may not have been alive very long to realise it, and Amelia would not be happy to know that he’d killed Thor and promptly been killed by Hawkeye in a moment of vengeance.

 

Loki did not really _want_ to kill his brother either, so that was another con in that situation; it wasn’t as though there were many pros to finding out it was just a hellish illusion, too. Was there truly much point in trying?

 

In retrospect, he was quite glad he hadn’t slit Thor’s throat, no matter how much he’d wanted to in the moment.

 

* * *

 

It was almost two o’clock in the morning when Loki eventually returned to their room after Amelia had apparently scared him off by calling him out for his awful conduct a little earlier in the day. Amelia had not been able to sleep; the sound of the rain relentlessly hitting the window kept her up and she was too hot-headed to allow herself to calm down - not only that, but she was also worried, _again,_ as she did not know where Loki had scampered off to.

 

When the door to their room clicked open, she froze, face pressed half into the pillow, eyes shut as she listened for the sound of Loki entering. He didn’t speak, as usual, stepping around the bed, and began to peel his wet clothes off, dropping them unceremoniously on the floor - _Amelia could tell they were wet from the damp thudding noise they made as they hit the carpet, as well as the faint smell of petrichor filling the room_ \- before pulling back the cover and slipping into the bed beside her.

 

Amelia squealed, jumping up suddenly as his drenched locks brushed her shoulder, sending a shivering chill throughout her body - it was far from enjoyable to have something so cold flick against her snug, warm skin. She reached for the bedside light, flipping the switch on in a huff, and turned to glare at Loki who only gave her a brief, weary look before he rolled over to face away from her.

 

“No”, Amelia objected loudly, “No, no, no, no, _no.”_ She hopped out of bed, rushing around the opposite side - trying her best not to step on Loki’s discarded clothes for the sake of the sensitive, warm soles of her feet - and grabbed his arm none too gently. “Up!” She demanded, tugging on his arm, “You are _not_ sleeping in this bed in that state! For god’s sake Loki, have a little decency. You’re about as pleasant to touch as a block of ice!”

 

“Then don’t touch me”, Loki groused, resisting her pushiness without much bite.

 

“Nuh-uh, oh no you don’t, you’ve been enough of a little piss baby already today, so grow the fuck up and _get off the bed- you’re getting the sheets all wet!”_ Amelia knew her high-pitched squeaky voice was not easy on the ears, but she had been tolerant enough for weeks, and no longer was she able to keep her complaints to herself.

 

 _“Up!”_ She repeated, pulling on his arm as he grew increasingly annoyed, until eventually he just gave in and did as she demanded. Loki sat up with an unrestrained growl which didn’t unsettle Amelia in the slightest; she continued to yank and nudge him off the bed, pushing him towards the couch where he collapsed in a dripping slump.

 

“Just the other night you were trying to get me off this couch and into bed, and now you’re doing the opposite. Make up your mind, woman”, Loki drawled, pressing his head against one of the armrests; his voice was more than a little muffled.

 

“This _woman_ has a name, so you’d better fucking use it”, Amelia hissed, storming off to the bathroom to grab a few dry towels, “and I’m not kicking you out of bed for good. Only till you dry yourself off and stop acting like a literal child”, she informed, returning to fling the towels at him.

 

Loki glared at her, so she crossed her arms and stared him down pointedly, “Go on then. Dry yourself”, Amelia told him, pointing to the towels expectantly.

 

The God of Mischief let out what sounded like an extremely dramatic sigh, grabbing one towel to fling around his shoulders and the other to begin scrubbing his head. He also seemed suddenly adamant to pretend Amelia was not stood there in the room, pinning him with a daunting, fed-up leer.

 

“You seem overly temperamental today, any particular reason?” Amelia casually enquired, and Loki’s motions with the towel paused momentarily before resuming. _Ah. The silent treatment._ Amelia wasn’t having it.

 

“When I said stop acting like a child, I didn’t mean start acting like a spurned teenaged girl”, Amelia haughtily remarked.

 

The towel slipped from Loki’s head and into his lap; his hair was now only partially damp and had become disarrayed from the towel-drying gesture. He looked tired - that was all Amelia could really glean from his dull-eyed expression, and she inevitably felt sympathy over his dishevelled appearance and sad demeanour.

 

“Loki”, she heaved a sigh, stepping gingerly over his wet clothes to sit beside him on the couch. He seemed more placid now than earlier, unlikely to lash out in a rage, and Amelia picked up the towel he had dropped and used it to begin drying the ends of his tresses. “I don’t have feelings for Thor”, she told him plainly, figuring it was still the cause of his distress, “It’s _absurd_ that you’d even think that”, her lip curled slightly as she spoke.

 

Loki turned his head suddenly, sharp eyes scanning her face with an intensity so abrupt and powerful that it threw her off slightly; Amelia shrunk back a little at his scrutiny. He grabbed the towel from her hands, throwing it down to join his sopping wet clothes on the floor, and cupped Amelia’s face, his icy cold fingers forcing an involuntary squeak from her throat.

 

“Are you real?” Loki asked, an imploring, almost frantic tone to his voice. His eyes flitted between her own, searching for the answer.

 

Amelia took a breath and spoke in a whisper, her heart thumping in her chest at the sheeny look in his gaze, “Yes, Loki. Of course I’m real.”

 

 _“Are you real?”_ He asked again, thumbs brushing against her warm cheeks, his voice no louder than a whisper.

 

Amelia’s face scrunched up as she blinked away the sting in her eyes. _“Yes”,_ she breathed back, willing him to trust her.

 

There were no indications of certainty or skepticism in Loki’s expression, and Amelia felt unsatisfied, still unsure whether or not the man she loved believed her to be genuine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know y'all really want Amelia and Loki to kiss and make up - and don't worry, that'll most definitely happen eventually - but I'm having so much fun drawing this out... but hmmmm, Loki's starting to realise there might be just the SLIGHTEST chance that he's in the real world... that's progress, right? ;D 
> 
> If you enjoyed this chapter, please be an absolute darling and leave me a comment. Seeing how invested you all are in this fic always makes my spirit soar, and I swear that's no exaggeration! <3


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AY! I got this chapter out on time!!!!! :D I'M SO PROUD OF MYSELF, Y'ALL!
> 
> Gosh, all your comments always make me ridiculously happy, I hope you know that. The highlight of uploading a new chapter is getting to read all your wonderful thoughts afterwards! <3

An angry snarl woke Amelia from her peaceful slumber, a startled gasp escaping her as her heart thumped in her chest; her initial thought was that a rabid dog had somehow found its way into the room.

 

But no. It was  _ only  _ Loki. 

 

Instead of laying beside her below the sheets, Loki was sat on the edge of the bed, staring towards the closed curtain with both hands covering his ears. His breathing was slightly laboured, and quiet noises of subdued exasperation were escaping him every few moments.

 

“Loki?” Amelia whispered softly, her mind still a little sleep-addled as she pushed herself up onto her elbows. “Wazzit a nightmare?” She slurred, rubbing her bleary eyes and squinting through the darkness. Her head wasn’t all there yet, but she could just about make out the slight tense of his shoulders at the sound of her voice, and then the sound of a low sigh.

 

“Do you  _ hear  _ that?”

 

Amelia blinked, staring at the man’s back for a few moments as her brain processed his question. “Uhhh”, Amelia mumbled, stalling for time as her mind fought to keep up with her mouth, “Uh, hear what?”

 

Another sigh, more exasperated and cold, “The infernal, high-pitched noise that’s been going on and off for the past half hour”, he sounded as though he was speaking through gritted teeth, his words tight with barely disguised irritation.

 

Amelia quirked her head, concentrating on the faint background noise, but the fact that she’d only just awoken barely a minute ago made everything around her muffled and vague. She could hear the very distant buzz of regular nightlife and traffic in the city, but it was easy to drown out, and more calming than disruptive, in her opinion.

 

“Mm… don’t hear anything”, she mumbled, rolling off of her back and onto her side, “Come back to bed, come sleep”, she suggested, and made an aborted movement to reach out to him, the palm of her hand brushing against the bed sheets instead and picking up the warmth that still remained where Loki had been situated beside her a short while ago.

 

Loki tutted in annoyance - a very succinct representation of his temper in that moment, “I  _ can’t  _ sleep with that infuriating disturbance”, he growled, his fingers curling into his hair, “Oh, how  _ blessed  _ it must be to have an inferior Midgardian sense of hearing”, he hissed derisively.

 

Amelia expelled a sigh. It was too early in the morning for this.

 

She pushed back the covers and slid out of bed, missing the warm cocoon immediately, and padded around the room until she stood before the curtains. She pulled them open, squinting as the dull moonlight illuminated the room behind her, and glanced back to Loki, meeting his tired and grumpy gaze, before she climbed onto the alcove and pressing her ear to the cold glass of the window.

 

The wind was strong enough to be audible, producing a soft blowing noise as it passed by the window, but beyond that, Amelia could not pick up any specific blares. There seemed to be a hum, a sound that Amelia equated to the faraway car engines running all at once, but no grating, high-pitched clamour to speak of.

 

“It’s probably just a car alarm or something-”, Amelia sleepily declared, interrupted by her own exaggerated yawn.

 

“I don’t care what it is”, Loki griped, “I just want it to  _ stop.” _

 

Amelia rubbed her eye with the ball of her hand, taking a moment to ponder what could fix the situation. Obviously, she couldn’t do anything to stop the car alarm, that was entirely out of her control, but with a little positive, lucid thinking, she could possibly fabricate a solution. She tilted her head, watching Loki take an attempt at a deep, pacifying breath, but it only became more clear as he pressed his palms tightly against his ears that it was doing nothing to appease himself.

 

Blinking slowly and tiredly, Amelia copied his gesture, pressing her hands lightly against her own ears and letting out a soft hum. The idea came to her abruptly, and she could almost physically see the light bulb going off behind her own eyes; she jumped up, stumbling a little on unsteady legs as she crossed the room towards the dresser.

 

She opened a drawer and pulled out an object, holding it up in presentation to the God of Mischief.

 

“What is that?” Loki asked stonily.

 

“They’re ear muffs”, Amelia answered, a faint smile on her face, “If you put them on, they can probably block out the noise and you’ll be able to get to sleep.” She held them out expectantly, but received naught but a dreary look. 

 

“They look stupid. I’m not putting those on my head.” He turned his nose up at them, rolling his eyes as if Amelia has suggested the most useless proposal in the world.

 

Amelia frowned, looking down at the ear muffs. They were pink and fluffy, sure, but they would do the trick. “But they’ll help you sleep… besides, I can get you some proper ear plugs tomorrow if the noise continues, so it’ll only be for tonight.”

 

Loki stood, running his fingers through his hair, and then batted the ear muffs out of Amelia’s hands, sending them crashing to the floor. “I’m not putting those on my head”, Loki repeated simply, and walked away from the stunned woman, swiping his coat from the stand by the door.

 

“Where are you going?” Amelia enquired softly.

 

“Out”, Loki responded, before closing the door firmly behind him.

 

Amelia stood in the quiet darkness for several long moments, eyes falling to the earmuffs lying on the floor, and wrung her hands together anxiously. It was happening increasingly more often - Loki would either head to the training room or insist on heading out for his lone walks whenever he grew even the slightest bit annoyed by Amelia’s gestures. 

 

She had meant only to help him, but every time she got close, something small would inevitably happen and he would push her away again. One step forward, two steps back. It wasn’t fair. She never got to spend time with him like she used to, before  _ Thanos  _ came and ruined  _ everything. _

 

Amelia sniffed, blinking away that familiar sting in her eyes, and returned to bed, shuffling beneath the covers to try and draw some warmth back into her body.

 

She knew it was silly to worry about Loki as he was more than capable of taking care of himself, but whenever he chose to take off in the middle of the night, Amelia inevitably found herself afraid that he wouldn’t return, and the thought brought physical pain along with it.

 

Amelia pined for the soft, lazy mornings she often woke up to before the terror Thanos brought to Earth. She yearned to awaken slowly, comforted by the weight and warmth of Loki’s arm around her waist and his chest pressed against her back; she wanted so badly to feel his gentle, innocent kisses peppering up the back of her neck, and to again experience the way Loki would stretch and yawn before pulling her more tightly to him.

 

She missed his patience, his affections, and she missed the times he actually acted like her lover, reminding her with every word and every touch that he loved her more than anything.

 

She missed him so much.

 

* * *

 

Amelia was craving chocolate milk.

 

Upon leaving her florist, she had already made up her mind that she was going to pop into the corner store on the route back to Avengers Tower. The day was approaching early evening on a Sunday, so the larger stores were already beginning to close, plus - her legs and feet were tired, so she couldn’t really muster up the energy to walk the extra five minutes to the supermarket before it shut. She shouldn’t have offered to work overtime that day, but it was beginning to grow difficult for Amelia to sit at home, knowing that she was only going to get upset in Loki’s presence.

 

As long as Loki continued to act callous, it was a chore to be around him.

 

She’d needed an excuse to be away, and her coworker just so happened to call in sick, so despite her tiredness, she jumped at the chance to escape the Tower and cover at her job.

 

Now, there was a chill in the air and dark clouds looming above, the gloomy weather had a part of her wishing she’d stayed home. The least she could do for herself was to purchase some chocolate milk, which would hopefully cheer her up a little.

 

Amelia stepped into the corner shop, a shiver crawling up her spine from the difference in temperature - while the air outside was icy cold and heavy, the inside of the store was pleasantly warm - and she rubbed her arms as they grew goosebumps regardless of the warm coat she had dressed herself in that morning.

 

“Ah, it’s nice in here”, Amelia spoke conversationally to the young woman behind the checkout counter, “Awfully cold outside.” 

 

“Tell me about it”, she sighed, “Feels more like Winter than Autumn, huh?” She seemed very bored, and Amelia couldn’t blame her - business was always slow after a certain time on Sundays and in some ways it was more exhausting to suffer through quiet periods of retail than the busier times. According to her nametag, the woman was called Susie, and due to her clear lack of enthusiasm to serve another customer, Amelia figured she should probably retrieve her chocolate milk, pay, and leave as hastily as she could lest she caught even more apathy off the woman.

 

She headed to the back of the small shop where the refrigerated section was and glossed over the sugary soft drinks to reach for the just-as-sugary  _ milk  _ drinks; grabbing the bottle of creamy brown liquid, Amelia licked her lips, feeling a tick of excitement at the prospect of savouring the delicious taste of the beverage in her hands.  _ Wow.  _ This was what her life had come to - getting overly excited over  _ chocolate fucking milk.  _ Well, she had to find joy in  _ something  _ at least.

 

Amelia shook her head free of the bittering thought, her ears perking up at the sound of the shop’s entrance bell ringing. She didn’t think much of it at first as she quirked her head and took another look at the sodas, wondering if she should take one home for Thor, but when a gruff male voice with a threatening note sounded from the other end of the shop, Amelia felt every muscle in her body tense up.

 

“Take the money outta the cash register and put it in the bag.”

 

His voice was calm but firm as he spoke the order; upon glancing around, Amelia found that the man was holding a gun and pointing it at the young lady on the till - his finger not yet resting on the trigger. It was a warning, a deterrent to disobey, a clear way of telling her that if she were to make any sudden movements that weren’t the actions described, he would shoot her. 

 

Amelia couldn’t see the man’s face as he had the hood of his coat up and his back partially to her, but the girl - Susie - was pale and shaky, clearly at a loss of what to do. She probably hadn’t been trained for a situation such as this.

 

Perhaps the most important thing that Amelia observed was that the man had not yet noticed her.

 

A daunting shudder wracked Amelia’s frame as she crept slowly and quietly behind the aisle shelves, putting a wall between herself and the criminal; all she had to do was stay quiet and the man would take off without paying her any mind. For once, Amelia wished that Loki had been following her around invisibly the whole day, but the fact that the criminal had not yet been incapacitated led Amelia to believe that it just wasn’t a possibility.

 

_ “Come on, hurry up!”  _ The man snapped, followed by a noise of flustered terror from Susie, and Amelia clenched her fists, feeling nothing but shame for her fear and cowardice. That girl was younger than her for sure, clearly terrified out of her mind at having a gun pointed in her face, and Amelia was  _ hiding. _

 

There had to be  _ something  _ she could do.

 

Amelia looked around, glancing across the shelves for anything that could potentially be used as a weapon, but this wasn’t a hardware store - the most harmful thing in the shop was probably the high-calorie snacks. They weren’t quite the weapon she was hoping for.

 

Pushing herself on her tiptoes, she glanced over the top of the aisle and found that the woman was now fumbling to open the cash register. 

 

_ Fuck.  _ It wasn’t like there was time to call any of the Avengers for help. Amelia always wished she could fight crime and help people like  _ they  _ could, but being in such a situation made her realise how  _ useless  _ she really was.

 

Casting another quick look around the store, Amelia spotted the CCTV camera facing the checkout till - but the man had his back to it; there was no way police would be able to identify him without getting a clear image of his face.

 

Amelia swallowed as an idea came to mind. If she caught the man’s attention, he’d turn around and his face would be recorded, making it easier for the authorities to catch him and bring him to justice. The only problem was, it would endanger herself.

 

She had a feeling she’d get an earful from the Avengers later, but she couldn’t just let the man get away with robbing and terrorising the poor woman. She had to be cautious; one wrong word or movement and she could have a bullet in her head in less than a second.

 

Amelia stepped quietly down the aisle - all she needed to do was have the man turn around.

 

“H-hey.” Amelia’s voice shook as she came to a stop beneath the CCTV camera, already raising her hands in surrender. She did expect the man to spin around suddenly, but it still made her jump when she was forced to stare down the muzzle of the handgun.

 

The brief swell of victory at tricking the man into facing the camera was thwarted when Amelia realised that the lower part of his face was masked, and that she’d put herself in danger for no reason. 

 

“Don’t fucking move”, the man hissed, and then indicated the bag slung over her shoulder with a quick jerk of his gun, “Hand over your bag.”

 

Great. Now  _ she  _ was going to get robbed too.

 

Amelia didn’t move immediately, her eyes flicking back over the man’s shoulder at the woman on the checkout - even Susie was giving her a look that completely summed up how foolishly she had acted - until the criminal pointed the gun more firmly between her eyes.

 

“I said  _ hand over your bag! Now!”  _

 

The raised volume of his voice reverberated in Amelia’s chest and she drew in a shallow breath, an idea popping into her mind lightning-fast. “I… I can’t… hear you with your mouth covered.” It was a long shot that it would work, but she tried to make herself sound convincing and unassuming.

 

Then, miraculously, the man tugged his mask down below his mouth and repeated his demand, “I said give me your fucking bag!” It was probably only two seconds that the man’s face was visible, and Amelia desperately wished it would be enough for the police to form a visual of their suspect.

 

If not, she could at least give the police a basic description of him and hope for the best. Light green eyes peppered with brown, a straight and sharp nose, thin lips, and a bristly beard.

 

Amelia silently nodded her head with jerky movements, and shrugged the bag strap off of her shoulder, holding it out to the man while she continued to hold the chocolate milk in her other hand with a white-knuckled grip.

 

The man slung the bag over his own shoulder, keeping the gun on Amelia as he turned back to the checkout woman. “Are you fucking done yet?”

 

Susie nodded tensely, “Y-yeah, that’s all there is in the register!” She kept her hands close to her stomach, purposely trying to make herself look small, and the criminal scoffed, giving Amelia another menacing glare before taking off, leaving the shop with Amelia’s bag and what was probably only a handful of dollar bills.  _ It really couldn’t have been worth it. _

 

Amelia remained taut and stiff for a while after the thief left, not quite feeling able to relax even after she was sure the man had actually disappeared. She took some time to comfort Susie with a few reassuring words while they waited for the police to show up, and offered a statement and full description of the perpetrator. 

 

“That was pretty smart of you to get him to show his face”, the officer remarked as he took notes of her statement, “Definitely makes it a lot easier to find this guy.”

 

Amelia nodded absent-mindedly, her gaze flicking to the clock hanging on the wall behind the checkout till, “Mmm… I hope so.” The items the mugger had taken from her were replaceable, she just needed to cancel her cards to protect her accounts, but he’d taken her phone, and it was getting pretty late. She’d been in the shop, giving her statement and every description and detail she could remember for about two hours now, the police wanting to be a thorough as possible, and she was well aware that without any way to contact her friends at Avengers Tower, they would probably be worried sick about her.

 

“Alright, that’s everything miss. We’ll contact you if and when progress is made”, the officer informed, and Amelia nodded, breathing a sigh. She  _ really  _ shouldn’t have offered to cover her coworker’s shift.

 

On the plus side, Amelia was gifted a fresh bottle of chocolate milk by the checkout girl free of charge as a little thank you for potentially outsmarting the robber. So there was that. But just to top off the awful experience of being mugged, the dark clouds above burst as she continued her walk home, and the deluge that rained down was by no means gentle or light.

 

Amelia’s umbrella had been in her shoulder bag. Her coat did not have a hood.

 

When Amelia finally returned to the tower, shivering and soaked, hair matted to her forehead, glasses wet and fogged up, bag missing, and clutching nothing but a bottle of chocolate milk, the Avengers were shocked, to say the least.

 

“Amelia”, Tony was the first to address her, “Kid, where’ve you been? I was trying to call you; you had us all worried”, the man enquired, hands on hips as if he were an anxious father looking to have words with his reckless teenager. He’d make a great dad someday.

 

“Oh, sorry…” Amelia murmured distractedly, glossing over the worried faces of Tony, Thor and Bruce, the vaguely concerned faces of Clint, Natasha and Steve, and landing on the back of Loki’s head -  _ wow, the whole gang was there  _ \- where he stood, facing away, looking out the floor-to-ceiling glass windows with his arms crossed. Seeing the God of Mischief standing in the presence of everybody else by choice was quite surprising given his entire demeanour the past couple weeks.

 

Tony appeared expectant, probably awaiting an explanation for why she had been ignoring his calls, and Amelia let out a long sigh, padding past the billionaire to sink down on his sofa, not quite caring that she was still dripping water everywhere.

 

She pulled her glasses off her face and dropped them on the seat beside her, running a hand back through her sopping wet hair to free the matted strands from tangling before her eyes; a distant thought ran through her mind - she was glad she didn’t wear makeup or her eyeliner would’ve ran all the way down her face, making her look even more meek than she already must have.

 

“I got mugged at gunpoint.” There was no need to sugar coat it. It had happened and that was that - either the police would catch the man or they wouldn’t. The revelation swiftly changed the mood of everyone in the room - before, there had been a clear agitation brought on by Amelia’s lack of contact and late return, but now it shifted to alarm, and Amelia very clearly took note of the way Loki turned around, suddenly interested in checking on her.

 

“Are you hurt?” The question came from Bruce, and it was the first question of many; Amelia would’ve been lying to herself if she hadn’t expected a torrent of enquiries from her superhero friends upon arriving back at the tower, but she was mentally drained from the incident, and only supplied the basic details of what happened.

 

“-and that’s how I got the guy to show his face, so hopefully it’s easier for the police to catch him”, Amelia explained everything sheepishly, repeatedly tapping the lid of her chocolate milk airily, waiting for everyone to rebuke her for her self-proclaimed heroic actions.

 

Thor scratched his beard, an encouraging smile on his face, “That was... smart, Amelia. Very quick-witted!” The praise made Amelia feel somewhat better about herself, but it was only transitory as Loki quickly interjected with his own thoughts on the matter.

 

“More like  _ dim-witted!”  _ The God of Mischief snapped, “You could’ve gotten yourself killed, what were you thinking!?” He’d crept up behind the Avengers crowding her, listening in on her short retelling of the experience, growing visibly more flustered the longer she spoke.

 

His reprimand stung and humiliated her, but most of all, it made her  _ mad.  _ After weeks of indifference, it took a distressing incident for him to face her - not to hold her, reassure her, or check that she was alright, but to  _ berate her  _ and refer to her plucky act of courageousness as mindless.

 

“What was I thinking?” Amelia parroted, indignation clouding her voice, “I was thinking I couldn’t let that man get away with pointing a gun at a young woman and robbing her!”

 

“But you put yourself in danger”, Loki hissed, his teeth grinding together in angry exasperation, “What’s more important - some store owner’s profit or your life?” The other occupants of the room watched on in silence, heads turning back and forth between each shriek and bellow as though they were watching a tennis match.

 

“Gee, I dunno, Loki”, Amelia began, voice quiet and frail, “Cause you really don’t make me feel very important.”

 

Something twinged in Loki’s expression. Not quite identifiable in the nature of its emotion, but definitely undeniable. His lips parted, eyebrows furrowed, and he looked like he was going to retort something back, but he hesitated instead. Amelia didn’t know what to make of the uncertainty in his eyes.

 

She glanced down at her chocolate milk, a despondent sigh escaping her. The desire for the taste of it had lessened - she didn’t quite feel like drinking it now. She picked up her glasses and stood, intending to head for the fridge to put the bottle away for later, “If you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go take a hot shower. Then I’m going for a walk. Alone.”

 

As anticipated, Loki was quick to object.

 

“A foolish idea. You’re not going anywhere.” Loki declared, and by the way he was stalking across the room towards her, he was happy to use force to keep her from leaving.

 

“Umm, hey, I’m kinda with Loki on this one”, Tony spoke up from across the room, “You don’t really want to run into any other heinous criminals again tonight.”

 

Amelia paid the billionaire no mind, focusing all her fury into the unwavering glare she was pinning Loki with.

 

“So when you want to go for a mysterious walk without letting anybody know when you’ll be home, that’s totally fine, but when I want to do it, there’s a problem?” Her voice was low and threatening to explode at a moment’s notice.

 

“Obviously”, Loki spat through his teeth. “You’re just a fragile human; what are you going to do when you get accosted again and they want more than just your belongings?” The unspoken possibility was used as a means to intimidate her into changing her mind, “You’re completely and utterly  _ defenseless.” _

 

The memory of Amelia’s insistent, forceful ex-neighbour,  _ Ethan,  _ popped up into the forefront of her mind, and as much as she wanted to just walk away in spite, the recollection was enough to make her reconsider.

 

Amelia sniffed, tears pushing behind her eyes at the strident, cruel words coming from Loki’s mouth. “You’re right”, Amelia admitted quietly, watching sorrowfully as the god’s mouth curled into a victorious, appalling smirk. She needed to wipe that sneer from his face in an instant; leaning to look around Loki, Amelia appealed to Thor, “You’ll accompany me on my walk, right Thor?”

 

Witnessing the smugness drain from Loki’s face was quite a pleasure.

 

* * *

 

Amelia felt a lot more comfortable once she’d stepped into the spray of the hot shower, relishing the heat after rushing home in the cold rain. Feeling slowly returned to her numb digits, and with the use of shampoo, she managed to tame the tangly frizz that had arisen upon her head.

 

Dressed in a warm coat that actually  _ had  _ a hood, along with a fresh set of dry clothes, Amelia and Thor took the elevator down to the foyer and stepped out into the chill evening. The rain had let up a little, and the pavement reflected the lights from the towering buildings, giving the setting an oddly serene feel to it. 

 

Perhaps it  _ was  _ better that Thor had joined her. The thought of heading out alone felt unsettling to her now - it was interesting how a little company could drastically change an outing.

 

“Are we heading anywhere in particular, Amelia?” Thor enquired, speaking for the first time since he had followed her out of the building; he didn’t seem overly enthusiastic about taking a walk in the rain, but he much preferred keeping Amelia happy and safe than letting her wonder about alone in the dark of the night.

 

“Cemetery”, Amelia responded brusquely, keeping her head down and her hands shoved in her pockets to avoid getting numb fingers again.

 

“Ah”, was Thor’s resigned response.

 

The walk continued in relative silence; Thor’s attempts to hold a conversation fell flat as Amelia expressed no desire to chat. It would have felt uncomfortable, but Amelia’s thoughts were too preoccupied to perceive the awkwardness. She was too busy replaying her mild skirmish with Loki over and over in her head, trying to figure out the thought process of the complex, intricate God of Mischief.

 

His hot-tempered attitude to her predicament implied at least some level of concern for her well-being, which was certainly an improvement on the weeks of detachment and disregard, but he presented it so negatively instead of offering comfort.

 

Did he care for her, or did he not? Why couldn’t he just make his damn mind up?

 

Amelia just didn’t  _ understand  _ him.

 

“You’re shivering again.”

 

She had barely noticed that she’d come to a stop in front of her brother’s grave, or that she and Thor been standing in silence for a good five minutes, until the god finally spoke up. She probably should’ve let her hair dry completely before leaving the Tower, it didn’t do her any favours in keeping warm.

 

“Here”, Thor stated softly, reaching up to pull the red scarf from around his neck and fasten it securely around Amelia’s. When she began to protest apologetically, Thor stopped her. “I’ve faced far more extreme temperatures than this. I’ll be fine.”

 

Amelia sighed, her breath forming before her face, “Thank you, Thor… I’m sorry for dragging you out here with me. I know you didn’t really want to come, but I appreciate it.”

 

“That’s nonsense. I value any time I get to spend with you”, Thor spoke, a bright smile on his face, which only made Amelia feel worse for being so rude and abrupt with him. After a few moments, Thor enquired, “What made you want to visit your brother’s grave tonight?”

 

Amelia shrugged slightly, “I haven’t visited in a while… and I find that I can think more easily when I’m here.”

 

The God of Thunder nodded his head, his gaze lingering on Amelia’s face as she stared down at the tombstone inscription, “May I ask what you’re thinking about?”

 

Nibbling her bottom lip, a flicker of upset befell Amelia’s expression, “I just… I was thinking about… when my friends all left me after my brother died. I always hated them for just walking out on me, but I think I’m starting to see  _ their  _ side of it.”

 

Thor frowned, reading the inference of her statement, “Loki was… worried about you, Amelia…”

 

Amelia’s gaze hardened and she shook her head, “He was being an asshole, don’t try to defend him.”

 

Thor’s eyebrows pinched together briefly, “You know how he is, Amelia. He has different ways of expressing himself when there are…  _ witnesses.”  _ If it was his attempt at diffusing the tension, it was ill-timed.

 

“Oh,  _ shut up. _ Just because there are people in the room doesn’t mean he has some inability to treat me with a little fucking respect”, Amelia seethed, “He humiliated me, belittled me! There was no reason for that.”

 

Thor let the pitter-patter of rain fill the silence for a few seconds, “I’m sorry to tell you this, Amelia, but he… had a point.”

 

Amelia’s shoulders rose up in anger at Thor’s disclosure, “Oh, thanks a lot! I’m a weak, stupid, puny human with no brains and no hope of defending herself, huh?”

 

_ “No!  _ No, Amelia!” Thor rushed the clarify, immediately enveloping her in a strong hug - because the god’s motto seemed to be something along the lines of  _ hug until pacified  _ \- “I meant the bit about valuing your own life above a bagful of money.” Amelia quivered from the ball of emotion welling up in her sinuses.

 

“I… I- of course, I… I know, I just-” She stammered, not quite sure how to respond.

 

“What you did was brave, and nobody got hurt - that’s great - but if it had gone  _ differently…”  _ He gave an incisive pause, “We would’ve been devastated if anything happened to you, Amelia. All of us.”

 

And  _ that  _ was the moment Amelia finally began to seize up in tears.

 

Thor let her cry, rubbing her back as he held her to his chest, warming her up as the rain continued to fall. When she squirmed a little, he released her, looking down to find her glasses had completely fogged up, leaving her effectively blind - at least until she gave them a quick wipe.

 

“Wh-why does Loki have to act so…  _ cold?  _ Why can’t he ju-st  _ show  _ me he ca-res?” Amelia stuttered, her voice rife with sobs and gasps, “I know he’s never been one for… public affection… but he was wholly c-capable of being  _ decent _ to me before this big fucking mess.” Not to mention how tender and loving he was behind closed doors. Amelia desperately wanted those days to return. “He just… -it feels like he doesn’t  _ see  _ me.”

 

Thor’s mismatched eyes were soft and contrite; it was a  _ crime  _ to view sadness on his face.

 

“He was the first to notice you were late coming back. He came into the living quarters, demanding to know where you were, and when he realised you weren’t yet home, he became clearly agitated”, Thor imparted, “We all assumed you’d just worked extra time at your shop, but he was adamant that your florist had closed an hour prior.”

 

The admission was surprising to Amelia. Loki had not seemed attentive of her presence, so it was certainly promising to know he had, at the very least, missed her. She wasn’t quite sure how to interpret this new information.

 

“O-oh…” Amelia murmured.

 

The wind picked up, rustling the branches of nearby trees, causing the rain to hit its mark with just a little more impact. The sound of it tapping against the hood of her coat made her shrink into herself.

 

“I know it’s really tiring to feel like no headway is being made, but please, don’t abandon hope.” Thor told her, and Amelia dipped her head, taking another look at the grave before them, before quietly declaring she wanted to head back to the Tower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'mma tell y'all a secret... we're getting real close the the turning point of this fic. There's sunshine on the horizon, my friends. 
> 
> Please, please, please drop me a comment. I am shameless for your feedback!!! <3 Lemme know what you're all thinking!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took longer than normal to post! 
> 
> This is the last update before Christmas, and unfortunately I won't be able to start on the NEXT chapter until the new year because being a retail worker sucks and it means I have to work EXTRA hours for the week where everyone else is basking in their time off D: 
> 
> I'm glad I got a majority of my christmas shopping done at the end of November cause otherwise I'd be stressed to hell right now lmao.

Loki’s gaze bore deeply into the fractured plaster that made up one of the foundations of his bedroom - the cream-coloured wallpaper having split and ruptured, revealing the sharp imprint of a fist - and then fell to his lightly grazed knuckles, dusted with white from the impact he had delivered not moments ago.

 

This reality had made him weary. It was all the same, day after day. When he wasn’t alone, walking the dark streets of Manhattan or honing his magic in the isolation of the training room, he was quarrelling with the woman who wore the face of his lover - forced to confront this being who copied Amelia’s mannerisms so perfectly, who replicated her voice without a hint of a flaw, who exhibited her facial expressions so impeccably that it felt like a stab to the heart whenever her eyes shone with unshed tears.

 

The urge to slam his fist into the wall did not prevail a second time, and Loki lowered his hand to his side, flexing it until the desire to break something passed. It did not, however, lessen his broiling rage.

 

There had been a moment earlier that day - a moment where Loki expected Amelia was not going to return. Not alive, at least. He’d been anticipating it since the day he had awoken from his so-called  _ coma.  _ He dreaded the moment the dimension around him would deliver the climactic finale, the dark culmination he’d come to expect. Amelia’s violent, gruesome death.

 

He’d seen it so many times and yet it always devastated him. Strangulation, burned alive, multiple stab wounds, throat slit, suffocation, crushed -  _ what would it be this time?  _ How would Amelia meet her fate, and how would Loki be made to suffer once again? 

 

When he realised that something had strayed from the repetitive norm - Amelia’s delay in returning from work - Loki’s heart had thumped in his chest.  _ This is it,  _ he’d thought, and braced himself, waiting for the confirmation of his fears. But then she’d walked in, and the painful suspense that had built up in his mind disintegrated at once, only to be replaced with explosive exasperation.

 

_ Hel wanted to toy with him a little longer, then. _

 

But as he’d listened in on the recount of her story, becoming aware of her foolish actions in which she put herself in peril, his apprehension reared up for reasons entirely different. His logic was simple; if he fiercely pointed out the idiocy of her deed, then surely she would not do it again.

 

Now, though, after Amelia had stormed off with his brother, back into the cold and rainy twilight, Loki cursed himself for reacting in such a way. The barrier he had carefully placed around his mind to keep himself from falling victim to this convincing reality had faltered and slipped. In hindsight, he shouldn’t have let himself care at all - not about a false mugging of his imitation lover in wholly _ fake world. _

 

_ ‘You really don’t make me feel very important.’ _

 

But if it was all a sham, and if he constantly reminded himself over and over in his mind that Amelia was not real, why did those words continuously feel like a punch to the gut every time they replayed in his head?

 

He was angry, and his anger made him want to lash out, but the moment he laid eyes upon Amelia’s aggrieved expression, he was spontaneously filled with the need to pacify himself and let up - but then he remembered the duplicity of Hel and the cycle started anew.

 

Loki wanted  _ out.  _ He wanted an end to all of this.

 

He wanted to go  _ home. _

 

The only method Loki could think to use now was to just  _ stop  _ playing along, to just sit and wait and ignore everything around him, until Hel understood that he was bored and needed to mix things up a bit.

 

So he situated himself upon the cushioned space of the window alcove in his room, and stared out over the life of Manhattan, watching as the last rays of light sunk below the cityscape and suffused the sight with darkness. There was nothing but heavy clouds above, blocking the sky from view, and Loki wondered if the immutable presence of rain the past few weeks was just a cover up to shield the fact that there were no stars in Hel. He couldn’t recall a single moment since he’d awoken from his ‘coma’ in which he’d looked up and seen the telltale twinkle of faraway galaxies. Had it really been raining all this time?

 

Loki’s eyes followed the droplets of water as they rolled down the window; he tried to keep his mind clear, but all he could think about was Amelia, and where Thor had accompanied her. His brother could keep her safe from nefarious individuals, but not from the cold and the rain, and Amelia did not take gloves - her fingers must’ve been numb by now.

 

Whenever he caught himself worrying about her, Loki let out an incensed sigh, grinding his teeth together to try and banish the concern. 

 

He sat stationary in the same position, the side of his forehead pressed against the cool glass, for over an hour and a half; his mind jumped back and forth between unnecessarily worrying over Amelia’s safety, and forcing himself not to care. Eventually, the sound of footsteps outside the room indicated Amelia’s return, and Loki expelled an audible breath of both relief and premature discontent for the no-doubt taxing evening that was about to unfold.

 

Ignoring the woman was going to be tough, he already knew that, but he had good self-control, and he knew how to keep up an act for a  _ very  _ long time. The whole of Asgard could attest to that.

 

The door clicked as it opened across the room, but Loki kept his gaze solidly on one flickering light several blocks away in a building much shorter than the Avengers Tower; he didn’t know why he chose to focus on it, or what could be causing the light to flicker, but he strove not to take his eyes off of it.

 

He could feel Amelia’s presence, her gaze on him as the door slowly shut again, and the subsequent silence that followed which made him radically aware of how loud his heartbeat was in his chest. If the woman was expecting him to give in and speak first, she would be thoroughly disappointed.

 

Instead of addressing him, Amelia hit the light switch and illuminated the room; the brightness from behind made it harder to concentrate on the gloom outside given all Loki could see now was the reflection of the woman standing by the door, silently lingering. After what had to be at least five minutes, Amelia exhaled audibly, removed her coat and hung it up to dry. She proceeded to remove her clothing stiffly, dumping them in the laundry basket, before retrieving her pyjamas from the drawers so she could slip into something comfortable and warm.

 

The temptation to turn his head was rising, but Loki kept his stare firmly on Amelia’s mirror image, his eyes raking over her body as she stripped and redressed without a sound, acting as if he wasn’t even there. She rubbed her palms repeatedly over her arms where the skin was raised with goosebumps, cast him one last aggravated look, and disappeared into the bathroom to brush her teeth.

 

Upon emerging several minutes later, Amelia put her hands on her hips, “Are you even going to look at me, Loki?”

 

His lack of response furthered her irritation.

 

“Don’t you think I’ve been through enough today? Do I really deserve to be given the silent treatment, too? What, because I asked your brother to go on a walk with me?” The terse slew of enquiries flowed from her mouth as she expectantly awaited some sort of acknowledgement.

 

When Loki’s head remained steadfastly turned away from her, she took three impressively long strides forwards and came to a stop right beside him. Her entire body was radiating skittish energy, her fingers fidgeting and flexing by her side - the soundlessness must’ve been making her nervous.

 

“You’re acting like a child again”, Amelia spoke, “Ignoring me isn’t going to solve any of our problems, you know that, right?”

 

Loki resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

 

“I want an apology”, Amelia stated, crossing her arms to halt her restless hands, “You made me feel like an idiot, and  _ I want an apology.”  _

 

Loki did nothing but blink, and he could sense the growing upset burgeoning within the woman. Regardless of the authenticity of this reality, Loki had done nothing but discourage Amelia from putting herself in danger again, however if he were to open his mouth and contest her now, it would ruin the point of his ongoing dismissiveness.

 

_ “Loki”,  _ Amelia spoke his name again, an underlying quiver in her voice which made it difficult to stay headstrong on his decision not to interact, “Loki,  _ please  _ don’t ignore me.”

 

He refused to show any indication that her insistence might eventually make a dent in his composure.

 

She sniffled, and if Loki had to guess, he would say her eyes were probably prickling with tears; she placed her hand on his upper arm and gave him a weak nudge.

 

“Loki, just… _ look at me, please.”  _ She whimpered, her voice finally cracking as her throat grew tight with doleful emotion, “I just want you to look at me.” She reached for his face, cupping his cheeks to try and force him to look her way, but he stubbornly tensed against her, keeping his head pointed firmly away. 

 

“What?  _ What did I do?”  _ Amelia cried, pulling her hands away from his face to grab handfuls of his linen shirt. She squeezed the material in her hands, “I’m tired, Loki. I just want you to hold me again”, she hiccuped and sobbed, lowering her forehead to his shoulder where she resumed her sniffles and took her sharp breaths.

 

Loki nibbled repeatedly at the inside of his lip, despising the scenario that Hel was testing him with; Amelia clung desperately to him, pleading for him to pay her any sort of attention, because apparently she found it more painful for Loki to not acknowledge her than for him to be directly hurtful.

 

Gradually, she stopped tugging on his shirt and soliciting his regard, and instead floundered towards the bed, burying herself below the covers were she continued to cry until she wore herself out. When Loki didn’t hear her make a sound for over an hour, he presumed her to be asleep, and flicked off the light switch with the aid of his magic.

 

With his head resting against the window pane, and nothing but his thoughts to fill the agonising silence, Loki found himself slipping into a light doze.

 

* * *

 

Upon blinking awake, Amelia found that her sinuses were clogged with minor discomfort. The area around her eyes felt awfully sore, and her nostrils were dried out owing to the fact that she’d spent a good long while rubbing relentlessly at her face with the sleeve of her pyjama top. Well, she supposed that was to be expected given that she had cried herself to sleep; she couldn’t even scrunch up her nose without feeling the slight sting of stiff and tender skin.

 

A nasally sigh left her as she gently drew the blankets tighter around her body, shifting awkwardly in the bed till she was curled up in a ball, lest she disturb the man sleeping beside her. It was only when she heard the quiet noise of Loki’s fragmented breathing - above the torrents of rain hitting the window - that she realised he was not at all by her side, and was in fact still sitting in the alcove where he had been many hours ago.

 

Amelia tilted her head, peering back over her shoulder through the darkness of the room, spotting the blue tones of moonlight shining through the window and illuminating Loki’s silhouette. The cramped position he had managed to fall asleep in did not look comfortable at all - he was nestled in the corner, almost upright with his head pressed against the cold glass, his long legs furled before him, confined and coiled in the too-small space. It couldn’t have been healthy for his restless mind, and if anything, it probably amplified the rate at which he experienced his horrible nightmares.

 

He was caught in one now, the minute twitches of his limbs and his uneven breathing was evident of the fact. Amelia figured it must’ve been what woke her up. An audible grunt left his mouth occasionally, and although she couldn’t quite see through the shade of the room, Amelia could assume that his brow was furrowed and his expression was distressed.

 

The immediate instinct that flooded through her was to get out of bed and and wake the poor man - to pull him free from his harrowing fantasy - but the residual anger from the prior evening had become a twinge of bitter spite. Loki had been so dead-set on paying her no mind, and now she would repay the favour, simply listening and allowing Loki’s awful dream to play out without choosing to intervene.

 

The god’s nightmares always began slowly, growing gradually to something more dreadful and unsettling the longer they were permitted to continue - at least, that was what Amelia could make out from an outside perspective; at first, Loki’s telling movements were only slight, and his noises were quiet, but after several minutes the intensity of the images in his ailed mind must have increased, because his breaths became sharp and heavily irregular.

 

Loki shuddered, a tremoring gasp escaping his throat; the inconsistent motions of his flimsy form halted when he grew abruptly and irrefutably taut, head crooked at an unnatural angle.

 

The only noise that proceeded was the concerning retching and gurgling emanating from Loki’s mouth. It was not a sound that was typical to hear from a person as they slept, and Amelia sat up quickly, leaning over to try and catch a clearer glimpse of the god’s face. His limbs quaked, sleep-diluted movements reminiscent of a helpless struggle, but the thing that filled Amelia with unease was the stifled sounds of her lover trying desperately to take in oxygen.

 

It was as if he could not breathe.

 

Amelia regretted her negligence at once. Loki was  _ suffocating  _ and she was just sitting there, watching him suffer amidst his unconscious ordeal. She jumped up immediately, teetering over the edge of the bed and stumbling to the window, grabbing Loki by the shoulders to try and wake him.

 

“Loki! Loki, for god’s sake,  _ breathe!”  _

 

She cupped his face, tilting his head forwards, his name falling from her lips repeatedly at increasingly tumultuous levels, all the while Loki twitched and clawed at his throat, trapped in a ghastly instant of torment.

 

After what felt like far too long, Loki became responsive, his dark eyes flying open as he sucked in a sizeable breath and proceeded to cough and hack. Amelia had no time to open her mouth and check whether he was okay before he’d pushed her away and recoiled, his wheezing loud and violent in the otherwise silent room. 

 

The bed broke Amelia’s fall, fortunately, and she merely bounced before sleeping to the floor with a startled yelp, staring up at Loki with her mouth agape as she too drew in audible breaths.

 

Loki’s hand rested at his throat while his eyes darted around the pitch-black room, searching and calculating as his frantic pulse began to slow, and he made the transition from panic-stricken confusion to a somewhat more rational state of lucidity.

 

Amelia shuffled to sit up from her slumped position against the edge of the bed, and looked up at Loki with large eyes full of worry. “Are you alright?” She felt the need to whisper her enquiry, but even that felt too sharply uttered in the transpiring hush. The god did not bless her question with an answer, keeping his gaze solely on his shaky hands while he cleared his throat with a few subdued croaks.

 

“Loki”, Amelia murmured when her concern was met with no response, “You- you were choking!” She climbed to her feet again, reaching out one cautionary hand toward the troubled god while taking stuttering steps forward. “Loki, I think your nightmares are getting worse. You need to-”

 

“I don’t  _ need _ to do anything!” The suddenness with which Loki roared had Amelia flinching back in shock; his voice retained a sleep-strained rasp, but his tone was forceful with the intent to frighten her.

 

When her eyes pricked with tears, Amelia felt her face flush with anger; she had cried enough from his atrocious treatment of her. Her desire to offer him compassion and understanding was draining like a pulled plug, only to be refilled with burning fury at Loki’s returning malevolence. She had faced the man before, after learning of his true identity, and she had given him so many chances - more than he deserved - but now she was  _ tired. _

 

Despite the whirlwind of emotions rushing through her mind, Amelia kept her words and countenance calm as she spoke, “Loki. I want to help you. You just need to cooperate. Listen, I don’t doubt you’re strong enough to eventually fight through your issues, Loki, but you don’t  _ need  _ to fight them alone.”

 

Loki’s fidgety behaviour, which was generally customary upon waking from a nightmare, had yet to recede, and his hands travelled over his face, touching his skin, rubbing his eyes, scratching his nose, pinching his ears, tangling in his hair and  _ tugging.  _ He looked neurotic, his eyes wild with a cocktail of fear, anger and frustration. His hard stare bore into Amelia as he visibly ground his teeth together, and snappishly bit out, “I don’t need your  _ help!  _ I don’t need your pity, and I  _ don’t need you!” _

 

The piercing lack of sound that followed Loki’s exclamation seemed deafening in comparison to his ear-splitting shout, and Amelia let the noiselessness linger as the god’s words sunk in to both of the room’s occupants. Three quick, consecutive blinks signified the moment Amelia understood just what he’d said.

 

She swallowed thickly, her hand laying on her chest at the physical pain stabbing through her, his careless remark having torn through her heart like a serrated blade. Amelia searched Loki’s face for regret, but all she found was anger and high-strung irritation; he’d never been  _ clearer  _ about anything else.

 

“You don’t need me, huh?” Amelia whispered, constraining herself to keep a level facade while loss and hurt ran rampant in her head, but she could not keep her distraught, frantic breaths from escaping her throat, “You don’t love me anymore? Is that it?”

 

Loki’s fingers, which had been part way through tearing out his own hair, stilled at her tightly-spoken question.

 

“Do you want me to leave, Loki?” Amelia asked in a small voice, hoping with all her being that the answer would be  _ ‘No! No, of course I don’t want you to leave!’,  _ but the god’s silence only encouraged her heart to splinter with anguish. “Cause if you want me to leave, I’ll leave. I’ll go right now, if that’s what you want.”

 

Loki’s wooden gaze landed on her slowly, his lips parted, but he said nothing. The fact that he could not answer her made her throat tight with anger - the least he could do confirm aloud that he wanted her out, instead of keeping her confined in their relationship while she deliberated endlessly about whether the god even felt  _ anything _ for her anymore.

 

Amelia had suffered enough of his aloofness. She had put up with his awful attitude, pushed through while he’d distanced himself, and endured boundless fear and anxiety for his health when he was lost in a coma - and for what? To be ignored and neglected and dismissed.

 

She’d been nothing but patient, willing to help him through his issues, and he’d avoided her at every chance. She’d  _ tried  _ to be sympathetic, caring and accommodating even when Loki hissed and spat in her face that she was a  _ fake,  _ that she wasn’t real, and that everything she told him was a  _ lie. _

 

She had tried, and now she was filled with fire, an awfully rotten feeling streaming through her veins as she turned on the man she truly  _ loved with all her heart.  _ “Do you want me to go, Loki?” Amelia repeated, her voice raised, and Loki’s impassive eyes sharpened on her, as if filled with alarm, “Because if you want me to  _ stay,  _ then you better get on your fucking knees and beg me not to walk out.”

 

She’d been through this before, she didn’t deserve to go through it  _ again. _

 

Loki gaped, his mouth falling open just a little wider as words endeavoured to tumble out, but he made no move to do as she asked.

 

The god was witless moron if he thought she was just going to stand there and watch him stare at her all night.

 

Amelia’s hands rested on her hips as she took one deep breath and exhaled it out, eyes closed and head nodding at the inferred, unspoken response.

 

“Right.” She turned around, slipped her shoes on, grabbed her coat, “Goodbye, Loki” - and left the room without looking back. She held her head high, passing through the brightly lit hallway towards her destination - the elevator - and kept her face valiantly impassive, until she stepped through the steel doors of the lift and watched them close. That was the moment her inscrutable exterior promptly crumbled.

 

She slapped her hands over her face and screamed, her cry muffled as the emotional lump in her throat flew out in the form of a string of sobs. She pressed the balls of her hands into her eyes till she saw distorted shapes in the blackness of her vision, and when she pulled them back, her palms came away wet with tears.

 

Amelia didn’t  _ want  _ to go. A large part of her had threatened to leave in the hopes that it would set Loki straight and he’d realised he was being a  _ fucking asshole,  _ but now that that plan had failed, she really didn’t feel as though she was wanted anymore. Walking out of that room had been a snap decision, and probably not a good one at that.

 

She had no phone and no money on her, owing to that damn thief who had held a gun to her face, so where was she supposed to go? She really hadn’t thought it through, but still, when the elevator stilled on the ground floor, Amelia’s feet led her out into the foyer and towards the exit.

 

The receptionist on the night shift looked up at her, face bathed in confusion. “Miss Avery? It’s almost four in the morning”, she began, a flutter of concern marring her words at the sight of Amelia’s puffy red eyes, “Um… I can call a driver if you need to be somewhere, compliments of Mr. Stark.” It was clear from her gentle suggestion that she wasn’t fond of the idea of Amelia simply walking out into the Manhattan streets at too-early o’clock - she must have been made aware of the menacing encounter Amelia had the prior evening.

 

Amelia liked the woman - her name was Janine, and she was far nicer than the receptionist who took the day shift. She wiped her face with her sleeve and forced a smile, “Oh, no, that’s okay…”

 

She didn’t have anywhere to go, so she couldn’t have Janine call up a driver without having a solid destination. Amelia cast a glance to the exit, peering out at the cold, rainy, cloudy gloom of the night; the sun wouldn’t rise for a couple more hours, so she found herself at an impasse.

 

Walking aimlessly out into the night would be stupid. Walking out dressed only in pyjamas and a coat would be even more stupid. Even if she managed to avoid running into any unruly characters, Amelia would no doubt be swiftly located the following morning by Tony or Thor, and they would give her hell for being so  _ stupid. _

 

Amelia expelled a sigh. Thor had told her barely eight hours ago that she had to hold onto her hopes that the affliction on Loki’s mind would soon recede, but she was a human being and there was only so much mental abuse she could take. There was a limit to her patience - a limit to her compassion, calmness, tenderness and restraint - when she was receiving nothing but hateful, hurtful maltreatment. She couldn’t take it anymore.

 

_ She couldn’t take it anymore. _

 

_ ‘God damnit, Amelia. I’ve tried to be patient, I’ve really tried to be helpful, and you treat me like absolute shit! I don’t want you in my house again. I can’t take it anymore.’ _

 

Amelia hadn’t thought about her oldest friend, Dawn, in quite a few years, let alone heard her voice echoing within her mind. Amelia was in the same place as her friend had been all that time ago shortly after Aaron had died; it was both upsetting and fascinating being on the other end of the same kind of unpleasant dispute - she realised wholeheartedly how her friend had felt and the pain Amelia had caused her, whether intentionally or not.

 

Dawn hadn’t known how to handle Amelia’s way of grieving, so she’d cut her out of her life, and Amelia couldn’t fault her for that now that she was experiencing that exact predicament, and  _ understood  _ her thought process.

 

But Amelia comprehended the struggle from the  _ other side  _ of the conflict too - she had lived it; whether Loki intended to be spiteful or not, he wasn’t quite  _ himself  _ with all those mixed, conflicting emotions filling his head.

 

Amelia  _ knew  _ Loki was unhinged by his wild belief that had been driven by Thanos’s workings of the Infinity Gauntlet. He thought the world was a fiction, and from that, Amelia knew that his mind must’ve at the very least been tampered with.

 

It wasn’t  _ just Loki.  _ It was a confused, paranoid, overly-cautious, tortured, anxious Loki who had clearly been through something terrible, and this whole time Amelia had expected his mind to fix itself while she continued to treat him as  _ just Loki. _

 

_ What was she doing? _

 

She’d been making the same mistake as Dawn.

 

“...Miss Avery?”

 

Amelia looked up, realising she’d been vacantly staring into the void for some time, and blinked rapidly. “Sorry”, Amelia stammered, “Um… nevermind… I’m not leaving…”

 

With that, she whizzed around and rushed back to the elevator, practically punching the button for the desired floor.

 

There was still time.

 

In that moment, the Avengers Tower elevator was just about the slowest thing in the history of the world; Amelia wrung her fingers nervously, eager to return to Loki and apologise for making such a brisk and thoughtless decision. She felt awful. In her eyes, she couldn’t find it within herself to place the blame with Loki for his insensitive actions, and especially not for lashing out mere moments after one of his terrible nightmares. Amelia knew what it was like to feel completely and utterly alone - she just hoped Loki hadn’t taken any heedless actions in the twenty-or-so minutes she’d been absent.

 

She sprinted down the corridor as soon as the lift doors parted, and stumbled one or two times in her haste, coming to a frantic pause at the bedroom door to tap a few commands into the keypad. Amelia swung the door open.

 

“Loki, I’m sor-” She fell silent, glancing around the empty room unsurely. He was nowhere to be seen, not even hidden away in the bathroom, and everything looked as normal as it had before she’d walked out - no upturned furniture or disarray in sight. “Loki, if you’re in here, please stop being invisible”, she tried hesitantly, keeping her eyes peeled for any movement, but found nothing.

 

There was several places he could have gone without leaving the building - the training room, the community lounge, the vacant bedroom on the fifth floor - but there was only one place in particular that Amelia felt Loki would flee to in a moment of emotional distress.

 

* * *

 

Loki had watched Amelia leave him many times.

 

He’d watched the light leave her eyes on multiple occasions within his own personal Hel, innumerable deaths in countless ways - he’d been tricked into piercing her chest with his own blade, holding her as hot, fresh blood spilled from her body. He’d watched Thanos squeeze her neck so tightly that her eyes bulged from their sockets. He’d helplessly watched as flames engulfed and desiccated her body, leaving her a smoking, motionless corpse.

 

But nothing could compare to the pain of watching Amelia willingly walk away.

 

Loki wasn’t sure how he’d ended up in Amelia’s flower garden - he supposed he must have walked there in his nauseated stupor - but the sight of it sent agonising rage hurtling through him. Amelia had left, out into the torrents of cloudburst, because he’d steadily pushed her away, and it was about the cruelest thing Hel had forced upon him thus far.

 

He knew there hadn’t been a chance in trying to bluff his way out of the grim reality he was trapped in - Hel was inside his mind, it knew when he was attempting to manipulate his punishment, to try and get it to end quicker.  _ Stupid,  _ Loki thought. He shouldn’t have even tried - his heart was too attached to the woman he loved, and there was no way he could distance himself sufficiently to fool the being behind his neverending torment.

 

Loki was destined to suffer.

 

His steps splashed in the puddles covering the ground of the helipad garden, and he kept his head down, the rain pounding against his head, facing the mess that had once been a beautiful array of well-kept blooms. There was nothing but dead, soggy, brown petals littering the decking, sludgy soil dripping from overfilled ceramic pots, drowned plants hanging limply or collapsed under the weight of the perpetual rain.

 

The grey clouds above taunted him. Loki wanted to tear them down.

 

He padded forwards through the rain, moving in front of the bench where the mix of clematis and carnations had become a watery, earthy mess; it represented he and Amelia quite nicely in that moment.

 

A heaving breath escaped him. This had all gone on far too long. 

 

Loki was tired.

 

“You win”, Loki spoke, voice raised over the wind and rain, “I mean it, this time you win. Just finish it now, please.” He couldn’t imagine how pathetic he must have looked then, with his slumped stance and thoroughly fractured spirit, allowing his body to soak in the unforgiving chill spitting from above. His hair and clothes were drenched, far from regal as he once was; he was no prince of Asgard now, just a broken mess of a man who had been forced to resort to begging.

 

“Please”, he continued, “Just… erase it”, he motioned his surroundings with a flippant wave of his hand, “You have my will, my spirit and my dignity, what the fuck more could you possibly want?” His throat ached with the effort of holding back his bleak emotions. “I don’t want to play your game anymore”, he admitted tightly.

 

There was no response in the gust of wind that sounded, but the rain seemed to pick up a little more. His fingers were turning numb. His rage grew fervent.

 

_ “ENOUGH!”  _ Loki screamed to the obstructed sky, his magical energy amassing in his moment of wrath, sending a wave of force in every direction. The bench behind him overturned, and he heard several ceramic pots shatter on impact.

 

It seemed his tormentor was not going to grant him any sort of respite from it’s brutal toying.

 

Loki slipped slowly to his knees, too racked with his suffering to even grimace at the disgusting feeling of cold water clinging to his clothes, and let out another wretched cry. He slammed his balled fists into the ground, crushing the wood which splintered below his hands, and sent a splash of water inadvertently swashing into his face.

 

His tears mixed with the dirty water, but he could tell the difference. His own misery left fiery trails on his cheeks amongst the spattering ice, his shoulders shook as he swallowed his sobs, and he lowered his head, taking a handful of his own hair and gripping it tightly.

 

A hand touched his wrist and he wrenched his arm away, turning so quickly that he lost balance fell back into the puddle.

 

It was Amelia. 

 

The breath in his lungs caught in his throat, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. She wasn’t gone, she was there in front of him, clutching her coat tightly around her body in an effort to trap the warmth to her skin.

 

“It’s alright, Loki. I’m not leaving”, she assured him with a quiet voice, reaching to touch him again as she knelt beside him in the cool puddle. Her arms wrapped around his body, and he let himself be held, still unmoving in his state of shock.

 

Loki had watched Amelia leave many times, but this was the first time she had ever come back to him.

 

Amelia kept her hands on his arms when she pulled back, a most earnest look befalling her face as she looked him in the eyes, and he blinked through his bleary tears when she spoke - her tone wholly soothing above anything, “I know you are angry. I know you are frustrated and exhausted and in pain because of everything you’ve been through. I know it’s hard not to lose your temper, and I know you’re afraid and anxious even if you refuse to admit it. I need you to know that I won’t give up on you, and I’m sorry I said I was leaving.” Her hand cupped his face, her palm still offering warmth even after the low temperatures had sapped most of her body heat, “I love you, Loki, and I know you need me now more than ever, even if you say you don’t. I  _ know.  _ I won’t leave you.”

 

She paused, allowing her words to sink in, and they did. For a brief few moments, Loki felt warmed by the compassionate sincerity in her words.

 

Amelia let her fingers trail down his arms until they reached his wrists, at which point she took his hands tightly in her own and breathed hot air over his digits, banishing the numbness and bringing comforting heat.

 

That was when he knew  _ this was his Amelia. _

 

The comforting heat dissipated when a fresh wave of anguish flooded through him. This was  _ his  _ Amelia, she had been all this time.

 

She was  _ real.  _ She’d been real when he forcibly pulled on her hair, she’d been real when he dismissed and disregarded her, and called her a fake. She had been real when he insulted her, avoided her and gaslighted her. She’d been real when he’d humiliated her and openly doubted her loyalty, accusing her of having an affair with his brother. She had been real when he neglected her, shoved her, shouted at her, and she had been real when he hurt her, driving her away to the point where she’d almost left him for good.

 

_ This whole time. _

 

A loud sob escaped him; he pulled her tightly to his chest, crushing her in a desperate hold in which she squirmed for a moment before slumping and becoming pliant, letting him cradle her while he weeped.

 

_ “I’m sorry”,  _ Loki didn’t even register when the words began tumbling from his lips in an endless cacophony, but once he became aware of them, he couldn’t stop, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” It felt as though no amount of apologies would ever make up for the pain he had caused his lover.

 

“We’ll get through this, Loki”, Amelia promised, her words so soft and assuring that they offered a tiny remnant of hope for him to cling to, “It might take some time and it might not be easy, but we will get through this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it. The turning point.
> 
> I know you've all been waiting so patiently for this moment :') It can only get better now from this moment onward, I promise!
> 
> I would love for you all to leave me a nice comment as a Christmas present ;)   
> Thank you all! Merry Christmas and A HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!
> 
> May 2019 bring us good luck and kindness! *Stares cautiously at the Avengers: End Game trailer looming like stormy skies in the distance* Mmmmm....... <3


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AYYYY! FIRST UPDATE OF THE NEW YEAR! HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE! I hope 2019 is full of good news and great surprises for every single one of you, y'all deserve happiness and love! I hope you all had wonderful holidays!
> 
> I apologise if this is a little short, but I have been so ridiculously busy! I did want to get a chapter out before the second week of January though, because I know that January feels like the longest month of the entire year, and I hoped an update could make you all smile :)

Trauma did not mend overnight.

 

Amelia certainly hadn’t expected that things would be back to normal the moment Loki realised the truth, especially given everything he had unintentionally put her through; he may not have _known_ that she was his real lover, but that didn’t magically make it okay that he had given her hell, no matter how willing she was to help him heal.

 

Loki knew this too.

 

When his awareness of what was real returned to him in the middle of the night on the decking of the helipad garden, rainwater soaking into his hair, he spent the rest of the morning refusing to let Amelia go. He insisted on carrying her back to their room, conscientiously drying her with a warm towel, and then proceeded to hold her tightly to his chest as they slept until just before noon, quietly recovering from the emotional rollercoaster they had both unwittingly ridden.

 

Amelia let him hold her. In that moment, she did not have it in her to tell him to lessen his grip and give her space, and after the many weeks of neglect, she was more than starved of his affections, and absorbed the desperate touches without protest.

 

But there was a part of her that knew it wouldn’t be that easy. She saw the horror in Loki’s eyes when he comprehended just what kind of torment he’d afflicted on her by treating her the way he had, and she knew for a fact that he didn’t easily forgive himself when it came to his wrongdoings. Not only that, but Amelia didn’t want to be the kind of person who said _‘oh, don’t worry about all of that awful stuff you did to me, I know it wasn’t actually your fault. Let’s forget it ever happened’,_ because while Loki did not intend to hurt her, that did not excuse the fact that he _had._ Many times.

 

Right now, he was spooning her back, his arms wrapped around her waist and shoulders, and she was held so compactly against his chest that she could feel the telltale thump of his heart behind his ribcage. She’d woken relatively early out of habit, and she hadn’t moved for hours, only owing to the fact that she did not want to disturb the first moment of peace she’d attained since before Loki left with Thor to head out into space; she was sure any minute movement would be enough to rouse Loki from his sleep, and Amelia was afraid that with consciousness, Loki would resume drowning in his endless guilt, which would in turn have him shut everyone else out, refusing the aid he so desperately needed.

 

Amelia had a dilemma. She needed to get up and pee so badly, but she didn’t want to wake Loki. The god was such a light sleeper, it was almost ridiculous - he could be deeply asleep, but if someone dropped a pin in the room, he’d be up on his feet in half a second.

 

So that was why she’d stayed stationary for so long, despite her body begging her to relieve the pressure building in her bladder. At some point, she was going to have to _try_ and escape the god’s firm clutches, but Amelia needed to draw it out to the last possible second - lying in Loki’s strong arms was like a recharge for her soul, and she’d been running on one percent for weeks now.

 

They both needed a shower; there was an earthen scent emanating from the both of them that Amelia generally wouldn’t have minded, but just knowing she was caked in soil and dried rainwater made the scent border on unpleasant. The cold had permeated her body last night like tendrils of ice creeping into her bones, and even though she had quickly warmed in bed beside Loki, that murky and unclean feeling still remained.

 

Amelia stretched her legs out, unfurling them from where they’d been curled up towards her chest slightly, and shifted ever so faintly in her tight position. Loki’s clasp on her immediately strengthened, prompting her to tense up - was he awake? _How long had he been awake?_

 

The cool light of late morning was filtering through the curtains - it was probably about time they both got up and out of bed, but Amelia was contrite that the closeness had to end so soon.

 

“Loki?” Amelia whispered softly, unwilling to break the empty silence of the room, but knowing that any longer spent in bed would probably end up disastrous for the bedsheets. She _really_ needed to go. “Can you let me go, please?”

 

At the sound of her voice, Loki’s muscles went taut, and then he released her, his arms retracting from around her waist. Amelia sat up, sliding out of the bed, and looked over her shoulder to find him rolled over and facing away, unwilling to meet her gaze. She figured their imminent, important conversation could wait until _after_ she had relieved herself.

 

As she entered the adjoined bathroom, there was a small dreading part of her that was afraid he would be gone when she returned - that Loki would do anything to avoid talking about his feelings, fears, and what _exactly_ he had been through to push him to act the way he did.

 

Amelia used the toilet and washed her hands hurriedly, catching sight of herself in the mirror; she looked a mess and felt it too, her face still felt clammy from the rain early that morning, and her hair had not quite taken it well either, if the frizz and tangles had anything to say about it… but the shower could wait.

 

Loki was sitting on the edge of the bed when Amelia slipped back through the door, his eyes staring heavily at the carpet below. He looked so vulnerable in his state of shame, clad in soft pyjama pants, his hair curling slightly at the ends - the sight was that of somebody who had finally thought to sit down after walking an endless, lonesome road for far too long. Fatigued, and unsure of what to do next - but Amelia had hope for him.

 

Amelia wasn’t quite sure where to begin. They had far too much to discuss, but to launch right into it and tackle it all at once didn’t seem like the smart way to go. If she wanted Loki to cooperate, then she couldn’t make him feel like he was being interrogated; she needed him to open up willingly.

 

The only noise in the room was the light tapping of precipitation outside. Loki had pulled the curtains open to reveal the slightly dim sunshine outside - the rain continued to fall but the sun was beginning to creep through the clouds, like good vibes on the horizon. It was almost poetic.

 

Amelia didn’t have to think about what to say first, because Loki spoke up.

 

“It hasn’t stopped raining for weeks.” His voice was quiet and wistful with an underlying tone of inquisitiveness; he wrung his hands neurotically in his lap.

 

“It’s Autumn”, Amelia replied, shedding some light on Loki’s subtle dubiety, “That’s just what happens this time of year.” She tilted her head and moved towards the bed, sitting on the corner so as not to risk invading his personal space - despite the fact that five minutes prior, he’d been practically encompassing her.

 

“Do you miss the sun?” She asked ruefully, before an idea popped to mind, “Next time it’s not raining, we could go for a walk in Central Park. Like we were going to do before you and Thor left?” She forced a smile even as Loki’s eyes squinted with sorrow, trying her best to show that the only way was up.

 

“Last night”, Loki began, the tone of his voice grim, “you said you still love me.”

 

“Yes”, Amelia affirmed assuredly and without hesitation.

 

“Why?” He asked, turning to face her, “After what I’ve done?”

 

Amelia’s mouth slipped open with incredulity. Loki’s eyes burned with a jumbled mess of confusion and remorse, still slightly reddened from the upset of last night, and dulled with the remnants of sleep. It was a few long moments before Amelia found the words to respond.

 

“Well”, she began carefully, knowing Loki needed to hear something that would satisfy his doubts and assure him that she spoke the truth, “because I understand the pain of going through something traumatic, and I know the last thing you need is to be abandoned.”

 

His eyes searched her face, still evident with disbelief.

 

“And… because when I look at you now, all I can see is a face full of regret and pain”, Amelia continued, “You haven’t been _well,_ Loki. It’s pretty clear you’ve been through some shit, and as a result you threw up a defensive barrier and didn’t let anyone in, and I’m not pinning _all_ of that on _you.”_

 

Loki looked away again, back to the window where the rainwater spattered against the glass and caused wet trails down the length of it.

 

“I don’t understand…” He admitted quietly. “I still treated you like shit, regardless of my state of mind. It only seems right that you punish me in some way.”

 

Amelia choked on her breath, covering her mouth as she coughed and cleared her throat, before trying to quell her amused snorts, _“Punish_ you?” She wasn’t quite sure how to respond, so she naturally defaulted to humour, “What would you expect me to do? Slap you round the face?”

 

“If it would help”, despite Amelia’s tickled retort, Loki remained completely straight-faced.

 

Amelia frowned, the crooked smile slipping from her face as she listened to the dismal tone of his voice; she shifted closer and raised her hand, and Loki appeared to brace himself for the impact of her palm, but instead she gently traced his cheek with her fingertips. “I’m not going to slap you, Loki, or punish you in any way. I think you’ve suffered enough.”

 

The god leaned into the touch, eyes slipping shut for a few seconds as he welcomed the warmth of her hand, but then the troubled lines in his forehead returned, and he pulled away, shaking his head.

 

“I don’t deserve your forgiveness, Amelia.”

 

Instead of contesting his statement, Amelia tilted her head and spoke mildly, “If you want my forgiveness but don’t believe you deserve it, then you need to make amends in any way you can.” She wasn’t going to baby him and assure him that all was forgiven, because that would not help him, nor was it what he wanted, so she candidly offered a little guidance in the right direction.

 

Loki deliberated on her words in silence for several minutes, and then eventually, to Amelia’s relief, gave a subtle nod of his head in acceptance of the advice.

 

Quietness fell, but something still tugged at Amelia’s mind - a budding enquiry that she wished to know the answer to. “I have a question, Loki.”

 

Loki faced her, eyebrow cocked.

 

“I’m curious to know why exactly you thought I was an imposter for all this time”, Amelia articulated slowly, aware that it may have been far too soon to talk about the sore subject.

 

Loki averted his gaze immediately, his lips snapping shut and face hardening as his stare bore into the window opposite. His eyes blinked and darted about in unnerved recollection, growing immediately shiny, and while his breath quickened only minutely, it was enough for Amelia to take notice, so she instinctively rose her hand to rub his arm in a calming gesture.

 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to-”

 

_“I can’t”,_ Loki snapped before she could get the words out, rebuffing her attempt at consolation, and then repeated his succinct, waspish remark several times, “I can’t, I can’t, _I can’t.”_ He paled, his fingers growing twitchy and his body language antsy.

 

“Okay!” Amelia replied, raising her hands, and assured him, “We don’t have to talk about it then!” She hoped it would pacify him. It obviously wasn’t a good time to talk about his trauma, and Amelia greatly regretted asking about it.

 

The thing about Loki was that he rarely showed his vulnerable side so openly, at least not in the time Amelia had known him, and witnessing it was enough to throw her into a tizzy. She knew from conversations with Thor that Loki only tended to show his unguarded emotions around his brother, but there were only a few times that Amelia had observed Loki breaking down, and most of them occurred a while back, shortly after she had learned of his true identity as the God of Mischief.

 

It shouldn’t have surprised her, because everybody had their own boiling point, and Loki had already been through so much in his past to fill him with enough grief and sorrow to wreck any ordinary man; it was just a shame that Amelia was not equipped with the knowledge of how to help Loki out when he was in such a delicate state.

 

Watching Loki struggle to contain what essentially seemed to be an anxiety attack was just heartbreaking, especially when she had no way to soothe him.

 

“Loki…” Amelia murmured, “We’re… alive. We’re alive and safe, nothing can harm us anymore. Thanos is dead - and from what I know, he was, like, the final boss of the universe. So I think we can all relax now, huh?” Her attempt to lighten the mood and put Loki’s mind at rest fell on deaf ears. The god grabbed his pillow and buried his face in it - an easy way to both hide his misery and dry his tears, but the gesture only revealed how exposed he really was, and in turn it made Amelia’s throat sting with melancholy.

 

He mumbled something into the pillow, but Amelia struggled to understand as his words were muffled by the thick material.

 

“Loki?” Amelia gently urged, wanting nothing more than to help him.

 

He lowered the pillow, took a deep breathe, and then stood, “I need to go out.”

 

Amelia jumped up at once, her heart thumping in her chest as Loki walked around her and headed straight for the door; he didn’t get far, because she rushed after him and latched onto his arm before he could disappear off like he had been doing for weeks. Loki faced her again, his sore eyes wide.

 

_“Please_ don’t leave again.” Amelia begged, her voice wavering with emotion. After last night, she had thought Loki’s incessant need to be away from her would cease - she thought the reason he had been going out so often for hours at a time had been because he held his firm, erroneous belief that he was living in a fake world full of fake individuals. But the fact that he was so quick to take his leave - even after he’d learnt the truth - left Amelia incredibly crestfallen.

 

Loki’s creased expression softened, his eyes falling to the desperate grip she had on his arm, and he let out a downcast sigh. Silently, he wrapped his free arm around her, pulling her close, and she sunk into the embrace.

 

“I’m sorry”, he quietly told her, “I’ll be back in a few hours. I need to be alone so I can think”, his lip quivered, like he wanted to say something else, something _meaningful,_ but after a few tense seconds, with his eyes averted, he simply repeated, “I’m sorry”, and left.

 

* * *

 

It hadn’t all quite sunken in yet.

 

Loki used his magic to appropriately clothe himself with barely a thought, seeking comfort in his soft Asgardian linens below the long black coat that he wore by way of a disguise; it was a piece of Midgardian fashion that left him inconspicuous and didn’t draw the eye of passing humans, plus the hood both sheltered him from the rain and mostly hid his face.

 

He didn’t want to abandon Amelia immediately after learning the truth - he wanted to wrap himself around her and not let go, to breathe in the scent of her hair and bask in her warmth - but his mind was reeling uncomfortably. The thoughts of torment he had put her through ate away at him like maggots on rotting flesh, and caused his lungs to grow tight with shame. He was supposed to _protect_ Amelia - he’d made that silent promise to himself a while ago - but he’d done the opposite and committed the atrocity of making her feel unwanted and unloved to the point she’d almost walked away from him.

 

If it wasn’t for the fact that Amelia was full of second chances, he would have ruined their relationship a long time ago.

 

He needed to be better.

 

He needed to _think._ He had to control these prominent emotions of fear and anxiety whenever his thoughts even dared return to the ordeal Thanos had forced upon him - that was why he had to go, _for now,_ so that he could find somewhere sparsely populated in order to sit and cleanse those creeping, nightmarish tendrils of dread from his head.

 

When he was calmed enough, he could return to Amelia, and begin his journey down the no-doubt long path to forgiveness.

 

“Brother!”

 

Loki halted in step, the sound of Thor’s voice sending a chill through his body as the realisation that the God of Thunder and every other person inside the building was also very real, and not a huge delusion as he had previously assumed. Turning his head, Loki watched Thor catch up with him from down the corridor - he must have just come from the training room - and he spied the narrow look those mismatched eyes were pinning him with.

 

He didn’t quite know what to say, so he just stared as Thor approached him.

 

“I hope you apologised to Amelia for the way you treated her yesterday”, Thor reprimanded with a sullen look, “You upset her greatly. Regardless of whether you had a point, humiliating her in front of everyone like that was unjustified.”

 

Yesterday felt like a lifetime ago. Loki recalled the intense feelings of distress that came to him when he initially realised that Amelia had not been present when she was supposed to be; he’d thought it was the finale of Hel’s illusion, but all the while, Amelia had been in very real danger, and he’d done nothing but sit around and wait for the news of her death to come.

 

He felt like shit.

 

The prickly feeling had been genuine concern - Loki knew now that his mind had been trying to tell him all of this was _real,_ that there was a reason the apprehension flooding his veins had been so acute.

 

“I… I was… just worried.” Loki stammered pathetically.

 

“I understand that”, Thor continued, “But you had no right to make her feel inferior and helpless.”

 

Loki felt the ball of regret within him grow a little larger.

 

He observed his brother’s face, from the disapproving wrinkles in his forehead to the tight pout of his lips, and felt as though he was actually looking at Thor for the first time since he’d woken from his forced coma. Loki remembered the last time he’d seen Thor’s face before that - while Thanos was crushing his windpipe with little effort. He remembered the fear in his brother’s eyes, the devastation and anguish, and he remembered what he’d asked of Thor before confronting Thanos in battle.

 

_‘If anything happens to me when we face Thanos, promise me you will look after Amelia.’_

 

And the hardened determination in Thor’s eyes as he’d responded.

 

_‘Nothing will happen to you.’_

 

An ironic laugh bubbled up from the back of Loki’s throat - Thor had been _so very wrong._

 

“Loki”, Thor grumbled, “What’s in Odin’s name is so funny?” His voice was terse and chastising as he had clearly misunderstood the dark mirth in Loki’s expression, and the gravity of the situation shifted back into place.

 

Not only had Loki been vile and malevolent towards Amelia, but he had treated his brother in a much similar fashion, all the while Thor had been so dutiful and reverent to his wishes that he ensure no harm, both mental and physical, came to Amelia. Thor had done as he’d asked; he had put a stop to Amelia inadvertently harming herself through neglect of her own needs, he had kept her optimistic and hopeful while Loki was down and out, and he had been there for her when Loki had not.

 

Loki’s eyes fell to the area on Thor’s neck where the residual discolouration of a scar still remained - an injury made as a result of Loki’s ignorance and inability to see what was right in front of him.

 

Thor had been trying to help, and Loki had almost _killed him._

 

“Loki? _Loki?”_ Thor repeated his name, eyebrows furrowed at his brother’s vacant stare, “Brother, are you well?” There it was; Thor’s clipped anger melted away so smoothly when worry set in.

 

“I was wrong”, Loki admitted faintly.

 

Thor frowned, remaining silent at the hope of an elaboration. Loki obliged.

 

“I was wrong about everything”, he clarified, throat tight, “I thought none of this was real… I was vastly mistaken.” He watched Thor’s face closely, identifying the moment the God of Thunder registered what exactly Loki was talking about - his mismatched eyes grew wide, eyebrows flying up, and the creases in his face smooth out as his lips parted in shock.

 

And then, Thor appeared to examine his expression, taking a moment to be cautious and tentative as his mouth opened and closed a few times, until he spoke again.

 

“Where is Amelia?”

 

When Loki did not answer straight away, slightly thrown off by the direction Thor’s questioning took, the God of Thunder repeated his question with an evident tone of urgency.

 

“Where is Amelia? Is she alright? You haven’t- _you better not have hurt her-”_

 

“She’s fine.” Loki responded concisely, aggravated as he perceived the reason Thor had grown skittish - he assumed Loki had hurt her, even after learning the truth? He would never dream of doing such a thing-

 

_But he had._ He’d left her again, wallowing in distress after she’d begged him not to go. He _had_ hurt her, by fleeing in alarm when she’d tried to talk to him.

 

_Perhaps leaving her alone for hours was not the best thing he could do right now._

 

Thor continued to stare at him, his brow knitting again when the absent-minded look returned to Loki’s face. “...Brother?”

 

Loki’s mouth wobbled with uncertainty for a moment, “I need to go and get something…” he finally declared, “I won’t be gone long.”

 

With that, he turned and headed towards the elevator to the foyer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter! I'm always desperate to hear your feedback so please do leave a comment for me! I also wanted to ask if anyone has any ideas for what they want to see in the rest of this fic? I already have plans for the main things that will happen, but if anyone wants to suggest any cute, fluffy extra moments they want me to add, I'm totally all for it! Just let me know and I may be able to fit it in! <3
> 
> P.S: Can anyone take a guess at what Loki's planning on getting at the end of the chapter? ;)


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All your comments are an absolute joy to read and fill me with such happiness. Thank you all so much! And you gotta all know, even if I don't respond to every comment, I most certainly do read them ALL, and I love hearing your feedback/ideas! <3

Amelia knew Loki was struggling with a cocktail of negative emotions. Guilt, shock, unease, self-hatred - they were expected after everything that had unfolded since he’d awoken from his coma, but Amelia had not envisaged the man wilfully turning his back and walking away from her after she had offered patience, understanding and a readiness to help him overcome his trauma.  _ Especially  _ not after he’d spent weeks emotionally torturing her - deliberately or not.

 

Following last night, Amelia had not imagined Loki would just  _ abandon  _ her again.

 

Admittedly, the significant pause of eye contact following his chaste embrace had left her stunned, and if it hadn’t been for that, she may have put her foot down and insisted he stay and make an effort to talk through his traumatic experience instead of burying it further.

 

The longer he kept it bottled inside, the harder it would be to eventually coax it out of him, and Amelia knew from experience that telling somebody, even without expecting a reply or some form of solution, just  _ having  _ someone to listen, who wouldn’t blindly judge, would offer even the slightest respite. And  _ that  _ was worth it.

 

Loki could not seem to comprehend that.

 

Amelia stood stationary for a few moments after Loki left the room, watching the door slowly slide shut, her face a mix of sadness and disappointment. A heavy sigh escaped her as she raised her head and stared up at the ceiling, blinking to dispel the tears that stung at the corners of her eyes.

 

She needed a shower. A nice, hot shower. Her hair felt uncomfortably greasy from where the rainwater had set in that night, and if anything could help her start off the day in a better mood, it would be the cleansing heat of the water spray and a little lavender-scented body lotion.

 

Forcing herself to move, Amelia grabbed some presentable clothes from the drawer - black leggings and a fuzzy, purple sweater, and padded into the bathroom where she proceeded to strip herself of her pyjamas, turn the spray on full, and hopped into the encompassing heat, letting the comfort of warmth wash away the miserable thoughts that ailed her.

 

Eyes shut tight, she let the spray run down her face and into her hair, the droplets trailing down her skin, as if in imitation of a gentle, purposeful touch. It had been so long since she and Loki had jumped into the shower together, and like everything else about their life before Thanos ruined everything, Amelia missed the moments they’d had together.

 

It had been a Saturday morning the first time it had happened, a few weeks after Amelia had moved into the Tower, and she’d still been half asleep - not entirely enough awake to remember to lock the bathroom door - and two minutes into her shower, Loki had slyly crept in, causing her to squeal with surprise and embarrassment, and then he’d simply helped wash her hair. 

 

The gesture had been entirely unexpected, because Amelia had assumed from the way he tiptoed in, a slight curl to his lips, that he had planned to seduce her in some form, and that her demure intent to become clean would instead end with a lewd tryst between lovers.

 

While he had gotten rather handsy and intimate in his actions - his fingertips grazing up and down her sides, his lips pressing kisses to her shoulders, his hot breath on her neck - it had never progressed beyond a heated but  _ pure  _ moment that betrayed Loki’s love for her. It was the first time Loki had caught her off guard by revealing how virtuous he could be.

 

Amelia wondered how long it would be before her’s and Loki’s relationship was mended enough that he felt welcomed in doing that kind of thing once more - if they would  _ ever  _ reach that point again. It didn’t quite seem attainable with how things were in that moment, but as Thor had implored her, she endeavoured to remain hopeful.

 

If she tried hard enough, she could just about imagine the warm trails of water as Loki’s touch, tender and teasing, making her shiver with delight. It was a shame she couldn’t stay in the bathroom forever, suspended in the brief moment of tranquil contentment and reminiscence.

 

* * *

 

Loki switched between speed walking and jogging as he rushed back to Avengers Tower, wholly conscious of the fact that the quicker he moved, the more attention from civilians he was likely to attract, especially now that he was carrying a large bouquet of flowers.

 

He was sure at least one person had recognised him already - a middle-aged man he almost bumped into upon turning a corner too swiftly, whose eyes had promptly widened with remnants of fear; Loki did not want to acknowledge it for what it was - a reminder of his wrongdoings on Earth - and he quickly pushed it out of his mind, continuing on without hesitation.

 

Loki had already been away from the Tower too long for his liking. He’d only wanted to be five or ten minutes on his little quest, but it had taken him a frustrating half hour to locate a floral store that was both open and selling the correct species of flower he was after. Unfortunately, the only bouquet in stock that contained white lilies was paired with another type of bloom - chrysanthemums. 

 

The larger blooms had thicker petals and practically overpowered the lilies, white with a creamy, yellow tint; it irked Loki because he couldn’t remember the significance behind the particular breed of flower - and neither had the useless shop clerk - so he’d reluctantly and exasperatedly chosen to buy them, if only to avoid wasting any more precious time.

 

He wondered if Amelia was still in their room, sad, lonely and questioning his loyalty to her; he certainly would not blame her at this point, as he had done nothing since his vehement epiphany to show that she had his unerring devotion.

 

The God of Mischief sped up, holding the bouquet to his chest protectively, and began to practise in his head the words he would recite to her, because a simple apology would not be enough - nothing would be enough, he felt - and he needed her to know just how fiercely he wanted to right his wrongs, how drastically he hated himself for what he had done.

 

He needed to choose his words carefully. He couldn’t make it sound too desperate, but at the same time it couldn’t seem flippant; his appeal needed to be genuine and from the heart, which probably meant that rehearsing it in his mind was  _ not  _ the way to go. But while Loki was a master at weaving believable lies, he had never really been brilliant at baring his soul and showing deep vulnerability.

 

Loki had already said he was  _ sorry _ \- multiple times, in fact - but that wasn’t a real apology; it had been a moment of pathetic babbling in which he repeated the same words over and over because he hadn’t known what else to say in that moment. When it came to mistakes of such vast scales, how  _ exactly  _ was one supposed to apologise?

 

He’d somehow done it before, after it had been revealed that Amelia’s brother’s death was Loki’s fault, he had  _ somehow  _ earnt Amelia’s trust back. Through the depths of remorse, Loki had waded into forgiveness - it had taken time and patience, and Amelia’s incredible ability to place her faith in someone who had hurt her, but Loki had eventually shown her that he cared about her, more than anything.

 

It was entirely possible that Loki was overthinking his imminent apology, and some prodding part of his mind told him that Amelia would not appreciate an iterated expression of guilt, but what was he supposed to  _ do?  _ Wing it? That would be fine if he was constructing a falsification, but the things he  _ wanted  _ to say were far from deceptive.

 

It was just a matter of actually getting the right words past his lips.

 

Loki took a breath. All his apprehension had caused his walk to pass by suddenly a lot quicker, because he found himself standing before the Avengers Tower without knowing how to proceed. His legs carried him in against his will, because he knew he didn’t want to waste precious time any longer - he’d kept Amelia waiting far too long already.

 

He embraced the distraction of staring down into the bouquet, criticising himself inwardly at his decision to purchase a mix of flowers when he didn’t know the significance behind half of them. What if they denoted something stupid? Loki knew  _ some  _ flowers were actually used to signify ill-will and negative emotions - he’d absorbed that knowledge from Amelia at one point - so what if the chrysanthemums he’d begrudgingly picked in his hurried impatience were indicative of hatred?

 

Amelia would probably never talk to him again if he brought her flowers that suggested he  _ hated  _ her.

 

What was he doing? He shouldn’t have bought flowers. Loki was most assuredly an idiot.

 

The elevator pinged when it reached the communal floor, and Loki almost tripped over his own feet in a moment of uncertainty, but pushed himself through the doors before they could close on him - his body seemed to have made up his mind for him, subconsciously pushing him further towards his goal. 

 

Loki wandered down the hall with a waver in his step, cradling the bouquet in his arms like it were precious - and it was, technically. The flowers were step one in his aim to be worthy of Amelia’s forgiveness, and it had to be presented with all the care he intended to show the woman he loved.

 

He continued on past the lounge room and spared a glance within, expecting to see a few of the other Avengers enjoying their free time, but the sight he saw instead put another slight stumble in his gait. He stopped, quickly hiding the flowers behind his back as he gaze rested on Amelia, who was half engrossed in watching something on the television.

 

She was sat beside Tony, her feet propped up on the coffee table, drinking from the bottle of chocolate milk she had returned with the night before. Steve and Thor were also present; the God of Thunder seemed to be recalling a tale from his younger years on Asgard, speaking avidly while Steve looked on with a quirked eyebrow.

 

“So there I was, facing off against this giant Bilgesnipe. I was  _ determined  _ to get a saddle on the beast- Fandral said it could not be done, and I know a challenge when I see one. But this thing - it was  _ huge,  _ think of the Hulk but at least three times bigger-” Thor spoke animatedly, and Loki knew for a fact that he was largely exaggerating the beasts size; he knew  _ exactly  _ what story Thor was telling, as he had been present at the time. “It looked repulsive, but that’s quite normal for the species. It’s horns were sharp and it’s breath was foul; with my hammer, I managed to incapacitate it in a mere instance-”

 

“That seems fake, but okay”, Tony interjected, exceedingly skeptical, prompting a smirk to pull at the edges of Steve’s lips.

 

“Oh, Stark”, Thor heaved a sigh, “your cynicism is proficient in ruining a good story.” The God of Thunder bemoaned dramatically, trying his best to play the victim in order to sway his listeners into believing him, but Loki was not going to let it stand when his brother had called him out on his lies countless times in the past.

 

“Stark is right to doubt you, Thor, because you and I both know it took more than a swing of your hammer to bring that beast down”, Loki loudly announced, a slight knit in his eyebrows; everybody in the room all but swung around at the sound of his voice, gazes shocked by his presence. Amelia perked up, shifting to the edge of her seat with a look of stunned hopefulness on her face.

 

“In fact”, Loki continued once he spotted the vexation in his brother’s glare, “if I recall correctly, my use of magic is what saved you from being trampled after your first attempt to tame that beast”, he drifted in and out of recollection, his lip curling in amusement at the memory.

 

It took a few moments of awkward silence for Loki to realise that nobody else in the room seemed to share the remnants of mirth, as they were all far too surprised to see him. His jaw tightened in the discomfiture that came with the lack of response from anyone, so he cleared his throat and directed his attention to Amelia.

 

“Can I speak to you, Amelia?”

 

Amelia’s lips parted, her eyes searching his expression, and then she nodded, rising from the couch and placing her half-drunken bottle of chocolate milk on the table. She walked past him, and Loki swiftly rotated to avoid showing her what was still secreted away behind his back, and then he followed her out of the room, casting a glower over his shoulder at the three others whose blatant gapes were practically palpable.

 

Amelia came to a stop a little while down the hall, confident that their current position was personal enough that Loki would be satisfied; when she faced him again, she seemed to notice only at that moment that his hands had been concealed the whole time - she quirked an eyebrow in suspicion.

 

“Loki, I’m confused. You said you needed time alone for a few hours, but it hasn’t even been one hour.” She tilted her head, trying to peer around him, but Loki shifted in unison, continuing to hide the flowers from her view, but apparently it was too dubious a move for Amelia’s liking, “Okay, what the hell do you have behind your back? Should I be worried?”

 

Loki could tell Amelia was visibly upset over the fact that he’d left her so abruptly that morning, it was obvious in the tightness of her pout and the way she had crossed her arms over her chest - she was not happy. It seemed like an apt moment to give her the bouquet.

 

He revealed the flowers stiffly, a distinct lack of confidence in his decision made it a whole lot less romantic than he’d initially envisioned. Loki cleared his throat, holding the white and cream coloured blooms out to her, his gaze falling away from her face in fear of finding disdain in her features.

 

“I… thought that perhaps you’d like some flowers…” He murmured, eyes flickering up only briefly, but it was long enough to catch the way Amelia’s eyebrows furrowed as she stared at the bouquet being handed to her.

 

“Loki…” she whispered, and her arms unfolded, hands falling away to take the blooms from him in order to examine them more closely.

 

“I’m sorry”, Loki preambled, “-if those flowers are the wrong sort. I couldn’t remember the meaning behind chrysanthemums, but I… I wanted to return quickly. I  _ wanted  _ to get you just lilies, but evidently, I have the worst luck in the world, because of all the florists I went to, I could only find these, and-”

 

“Loki.”

 

He shut his mouth, realising he’d been rambling. If there was one person who could make him forget how to speak smoothly, who was completely immune to his Silvertongue, it was Amelia; she gave him nervous butterflies in his stomach with her extended silence, and the longer she said nothing, the more his uncertainty built within himself.

 

Amelia chewed her bottom lip as she stared down at the lilies and chrysanthemums, and Loki gently shook his head, a heavy sigh escaping his lungs. He wanted to speak from his heart, and the only thing that held his tongue was the fact that he knew Thor and the others were just around the corner, their ears angled just so they could listen to what was being said between them.

 

“Can we go somewhere more private? There are some things I need to say, and I do not wish to be eavesdropped on.” Loki requested, speaking just a few decibels louder, so that the others knew they weren’t adroit.

 

Amelia peered up at him, her expression unreadable, and glanced back over her shoulder, on the hunt for somewhere more confidential. There was a utility closet several steps away, the door slightly ajar - convenient and inviting; it would be closed off enough that prying ears would not be able to reach it.

 

“Perfect”, Loki remarked, moving to approach the door with a guiding hand on Amelia’s back, urging her to follow. She allowed him to drag her into the small cupboard, cradling the flowers in her arms without a word; the closet was cramped and dark - at least until Loki hit the light switch, then it was just… cramped.

 

“What did you need to say?” Amelia prompted when it fell quiet for a few moments and Loki had resorted to simply staring at the woman.

 

Loki’s lips parted as he tried to recall all at once the words he had sought out for his apology on the way back to the Tower, but it seemed that every carefully constructed sentence he had mused upon had simply vanished from his mind the moment he’d laid eyes upon the woman he loved so dearly.

 

Amelia’s face was expectant but patient. She was beautiful - even after many sleepless nights, after the neglect and rejection, after she’d lost weight from refusing to eat - it didn’t matter that she looked exhausted and had a permanent frown on her face - she would always look beautiful to Loki.

 

She’d dressed colourfully that morning, which prompted the memories of all the times Loki had made fun of her garish fashion sense, but deep down, he adored it, and especially now - she looked striking in purple. The fuzziness of her sweater made Loki want to wrap his arms around her and hold her close, but he refrained. Even the God of Mischief could tell that his touch would not be so welcomed at the current time.

 

He surely looked rather silly with his mouth hanging open as all his thoughts swirled through his head, and instead of attempting to remember his rehearsed admission of guilt and remorse, he just let the words flow out of his mouth, completely unbridled.

 

“I’m an idiot, Amelia”, he began promisingly, “I’ve been oblivious and horrid, I’ve said things to you I should never have said. You did not deserve what I put you through and I regret it so much… and the whole time, you just kept trying to help me, even when I was dismissive, and an ungrateful ass. You continued to show me kindness and patience when I did not merit it, and…” Loki worried the skin on the inside of his cheek for a moment before lowering himself, sliding down until he was knelt in front of the woman.

 

Amelia took a slight step back, bumping against the wall within the cupboard, “Loki?” she asked, astonished by his actions, “What’re you doing?”

 

“...you wanted me on my knees, begging for forgiveness, right?” His voice was wry, and his face was a little flustered from the desertion of his pride. Loki inclined his head to look up at her, his hands resting in his lap, an expression of imploration marking his features. “So this is me, on my knees, begging for forgiveness. I… I want you to be happy, Amelia… I want us both to be happy. Together. Please, forgive me.” He didn’t know what else to say, so he fell silent.

 

Amelia held the bouquet in the crook of one arm, and grabbed a handful of the material of his coat, tugging it to pull him back up to his feet, “Loki, don’t do that. Stand up.” She looked exasperated, and Loki felt like drowning in shame when she ran her hand down her face, pinching the bridge of her nose cursorily.

 

“You don’t know what chrysanthemums mean?” Amelia asked tentatively, tilting her head to inhale the mixed scent of the flowers. “Do you want to take a guess?”

 

Loki stared at her, and shrugged his shoulders. He eyed the flowers, taking in the pale yellow of the larger bloom, the shape of it, and the sheer volume of the petals - it was a beautiful blossom, the scent was pleasant and the pastel colour was almost… calming.

 

“Radiance?” He supposed hesitantly, “Levity?” Amelia had definitely told him their significance before; he felt bad that it had slipped his mind.

 

“Fidelity”, Amelia answered plainly. “Loyalty and faithfulness.”

 

Loki felt relief, a weight lifting off his shoulders at the actuality. Thank the  _ gods  _ they hadn’t held a negative connotation, but instead were befitting of his feelings towards Amelia. The truth of the bloom’s significance was something he would not soon forget.

 

He nodded his head in acknowledgement.

 

“They’re beautiful flowers, Loki. Thank you”, she spoke softly, but there was a glumness in her voice that fractured any hint of optimism that remained in Loki’s mind. He’d known it wouldn’t be as easy as bringing Amelia some flowers, but he had hoped they would at least bring a smile to her face. Her lips remained pursed, her eyes dull with tiredness.

 

“What can I do, Amelia?” Loki asked beseechingly, “I want to make things right… tell me what I can do.”

 

Amelia shook her head a little, her lips curling in a droll way, “Loki… there’s no way to fix this immediately. You can’t just snap your fingers”, she accompanied her words with said gesture, “-and expect things to mend. We both have issues we need to work through, and that requires time and patience.” She paused meaningfully, and her hand found its way to Loki’s cheek; her palm was warm and soft, and the gesture solicited eye contact.

 

“There is one thing that could help.” Amelia told him, “Communication. We need to talk things out, and that means when it gets difficult to speak about things - and I  _ know  _ how difficult it gets - you can’t just run away. Y’know… face your fears, as they say”, her deep brown eyes twinkled, “I won’t force you, though. Talk when you’re ready.” 

 

With that, she pushed herself onto her tiptoes and replaced her palm with a peck on the cheek; her lips were hot, and Loki felt his skin tingle even after she pulled away. The action was brimming with promise and affection.

 

Amelia stepped away, pushing open the door to the closet.

 

“Where are you going?” The closeness had been consoling for Loki, and he hated for it to end; his hand encircled her arm lightly, and Amelia faced him again, this time with a smile pulling at her lips - the smile he’d been wishing for.

 

“I’m gonna go find a vase for these pretty flowers”, she answered warmly, and left him in the utility closet. Despite the fact that she was walking away from him, Loki was filled with sanguine assuredness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still open to any ideas of things you wanna see happen between Loki and Amelia - or even some brotherly moments between Thor and Loki, OR something involving the other Avengers! I'm totally happy to incorporate some things into upcoming chapters, and even if the ideas can't make it in, I love just hearing them so don't hesitate!
> 
> Tell me all your thoughts on this, I love love love long-ass comments! <3


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The abundance of comments I got on the last chapter made me very happy, I can't thank you guys enough for being so enthusiastic about this fic - it really helps motivate me to see all your thoughts and ideas :) <3

Amelia inhaled the aromatic scent of the milky white flowers Loki had brought her, turning them around in her hands to inspect the chrysanthemum petal’s gradients of colour from faint yellow to white. They were gorgeous flowers, especially alongside the apologetic lilies, and the fact that Loki hadn’t recalled the connotation of the blooms did not take away from the meaning behind them. 

 

It was clear to her that Loki was full of remorse. There were no lies or deceit in his contrite admission; he’d bared his heart to her as words of guilt fell from his lips. He had learned to express regret in a sincere and significant way, and for that, Amelia was glad.

 

There was quite a way to go, but Amelia felt hopeful that all would be well in time.

 

She was padding down the hall to head to the elevator when she noticed Natasha Romanoff approaching from ahead, clad in her work-out gear - it seemed as though the woman had just come from the training area and was on her way to her room.

 

“Hey kid”, Natasha greeted amicably, “how are you after yesterday?”

 

Apparently, everybody in the Tower had followed Tony’s compulsion to refer to her as ‘kid’, regardless of the age differences. Natasha was really only a few years older than herself, but Amelia supposed she herself did look younger than she was, and the roundness of her face matched with her bubbly demeanour didn’t help to convince people that she was a fully grown woman.

 

In all honesty, it didn’t bother her that much.

 

Amelia nodded her head in greeting, a polite smile curling her lips, “I’m doing a lot better now, thanks.” She still felt a little awkward talking to the Avengers she hadn’t known as long, but Amelia was sure that she would warm to them in time - it seemed that the occupants of the Tower had all similarly gone through some brutal moments in their lives, and in a way, that was what drew them together. Amelia was pleased she’d finally found a group of individuals that she could easily and naturally befriend - after so many years of isolation, it felt both strange and mitigating to be around people who were welcoming of her presence.

 

“Nice flowers”, Natasha remarked, motioning them with a nod, and the smile on Amelia’s face grew more genuine.

 

“They’re lovely… a gift from Loki”, she tentatively responded, “He’s finally gotten in touch with reality again, and wanted to apologise for his behaviour these past few weeks, especially yesterday.”

 

Natasha tilted her head, her eyebrows quirking as she eyed the bouquet. Amelia could tell she was skeptical of how seriously Loki had taken his acknowledgement of regret, and her thoughts were confirmed when the woman went on to say, “Is that all? He thinks just a bouquet of flowers is going to right all his wrongs?”

 

Amelia sighed. She understood the lack of trust between Natasha, Steve, Clint and Loki - she’d heard bits and pieces about what had gone on years back when Loki had led the Chitauri invasion of New York, so she realised their hesitance to accept him - they believed him to be full of utter duplicity and trickery, that he would soon turn on them again, and his recent behaviour did not help matters.

 

But Amelia knew him better. She wished they had seen the way Loki had willingly aided Tony, Thor and Bruce on missions to save lives and prevent disasters, the way he’d occasionally sat down with them all on a quiet night and just silently listened to their nattering, or the way he’d sometimes joined in the banter and even laughed along  _ \-  _ well,  _ smirked  _ along - amidst ridiculous conversations that only  _ friends  _ could have.

 

Amelia wished they had seen Loki  _ before  _ Thanos’s cruel intervention. Because then maybe they would’ve known that Loki had the potential to be pleasant, cooperative and even friendly.

 

“You don’t know how meaningful these flowers are”, Amelia told Natasha plainly.

 

Natasha gave her a calculating look, before offering a smile, “Perhaps not. Anyway, I’m glad I bumped into you, because I wanted to ask you something.”

 

Amelia blinked, looking over at the woman curiously, prompting her to continue.

 

“I wanted to know whether you’d be interested in taking a few lessons of self-defense.”

 

Amelia’s eyes went wide, taken completely by surprise by the woman’s proposal, and pointed dumbly to herself, “Self-defense lessons? For me?”

 

Natasha appeared faintly amused by her reaction, “I think it would be beneficial for you to know a few basic moves, at the very least. Just a few hours a week could be incredibly helpful in knowing how to defend yourself, so if anything like yesterday ever happens again, you could potentially do a little more than reluctantly hand over all your belongings.”

 

Amelia was silent for a few moments, processing Natasha’s words in her mind, blinking her eyes a few times fast. There was a part of her that was oddly gratified that the woman thought Amelia had the potential to protect herself all on her own, but it was quickly overshadowed by the more anxious side of her that was convinced she wouldn’t be able to last in a fight. She wasn’t exactly muscular or brawny.

 

“I’m… I’m not sure, I mean… I’m not very strong- and I don’t want you to waste your time teaching me if I’m no good at it”, Amelia stammered, “It would be great to know how to defend myself, but…” she trailed off with a sigh.

 

Natasha’s lips curled slightly, “Self-defense isn’t about strength. It’s about knowing the right moves and where to strike. I’m certain I can teach you. When are you free next?”

 

Amelia blinked again, mouth falling open for an inarticulate moment, “Um, I’m not working Friday?”

 

“Friday it is, then. Training room, one o’clock. See you there.” Natasha smiled and continued on her way past Amelia.

 

“Oh, um, yeah! Sure. See you there…” Amelia mumbled, a little astonished at the interaction that had just gone down. Well, it seemed she was going to be having self-defense lessons from that moment on.  _ Neat. _

 

* * *

 

Sleep did not come quite as easily as it had the previous night. Amelia was far from worn out given that she had slept in that morning with Loki, clutched to his chest and warmed by his arms, and there was an awkwardness that hung in the air. Loki lay still beside her, deceptively silent - if she didn’t know any better, Amelia might have thought him to be asleep, but every now and then, Loki would take a slightly sharper, louder breath that caught on his lips as if he was about to speak, but swiftly swallowed any words that threatened to tumble out.

 

He wasn’t latched onto her this evening, but was instead reposed several inches from her, allowing her space. He probably assumed that she didn’t want to cuddle, and he was partially correct - Amelia was not in the mood to feel compact; she was sprawled on her side of the bed with her back mostly to him, staring at the flowers he had brought her, which now sat within a pastel pink vase atop the dresser.

 

Neither of them were tired, it seemed, but something was weighing heavily on both of their minds for either to break the silence. Eventually, it grew a bit too tense for Amelia, and she sighed, pushing herself to sit up against the headboard and pull the bedcover up to her neck.

 

“What’re you thinking about?” She asked aloud.

 

Loki tilted his head, gazing up at Amelia for a few stretched seconds as his lips parted, before shaking his head; Amelia frowned and leaned over to switch her bedside lamp on. The room filled with gentle sepia light, bathing everything in a warm glow, and it allowed Amelia to see the furrow in Loki’s eyebrows.

 

“C’mon. What’s on your mind?” She urged. It was long past midnight and the Tower was peaceful, neither she nor Loki could sleep, so it seemed like a good time to talk. 

 

Loki heaved a loaded sighed, “Everything.”

 

At least Loki hadn’t lost his dramatic flair.

 

“Everything, huh?” Amelia murmured, “That’s a lot to be thinking about.” She offered a small smile in the hopes that it might persuade Loki to open up a little.

 

Loki’s eyes returned to the ceiling, and for several long minutes there was nothing but the sound of breathing, until finally Loki pushed himself up to sit beside Amelia, seeming to relent to his stubbornness of hiding his thoughts.

 

“I was thinking about how I allowed myself to be led astray by Thanos’s mind-torture.” The self-deprecation was clear in his voice, and Amelia’s face fell into a deep frown.

 

“Loki…” She trailed off, taking the time to gather the right words, “You didn’t  _ allow  _ anything to happen… Thanos was powerful, he manipulated you-”

 

“He manipulated me!” Loki repeated, his voice biting and loud, so much so that it made Amelia jump,  _ “Me!  _ I’m the one who manipulates people, not the other way around-” he clenched his fists when he noticed her flinch, pursing his lips as a guilt-ridden look rose on his face, “...I’m sorry.”

 

Amelia pinched her lip between her teeth, “He had those infinity stones, Loki”, she reminded, “He used them to warp your mind. You didn’t fall victim to his control because you were in any way naive or incapable… it was because he was fucking insane and those stones were too powerful to overcome…”

 

Loki gritted his teeth, “And yet my brother managed to bring him down.”

 

“Not alone”, Amelia interjected, “I don’t think any less of you for not being able to snap out of it all this time. I’m just frustrated that it took so long, okay?” She huffed, wringing her hands together in her lap, “I don’t know exactly what he did to you, or what kind of seeds he planted in your head, but Thor agreed that it must have been tremendously formidable to keep you under his influence for so long…”

 

Loki turned his head, looking out the window across the skyline, “I, too, am still hazy on what happened. It is difficult to recall when the fabrications ended, and when reality began.”

 

Amelia stared at the back of his head, struggling to understand the pieces of the metaphoric puzzle. “I found you in the wreckage in Wakanda… we brought you back here, but you wouldn’t wake up. Bruce said you were in a coma, and it lasted… a month and a half”, she trailed off momentarily, remembering the pain of waiting by Loki’s bedside every day for him to awaken, “And then when you woke up… well, something had changed… that was when you threw the plant pot at Bruce, remember? That was all real… anything that happened in between… it must’ve been dreams- confusing dreams.”

 

Loki did not speak for a few minutes. The silence weighed heavily, and Amelia sought to break it once again, but did not know what to say; thankfully, Loki found his voice before she could stammer out some pointless babbling.

 

“ Was I really just experiencing a dream - a product of my own unconscious mind - that whole time?” Loki shook his head, finally turning back to her - his eyes were clouded with uncertainty, “For a month and a half? It felt like a hundred years. A hundred years of torture… I thought it wasn’t going to end.”

 

Amelia felt her heart ache for the man. She had thought everything had been rough from her perspective, but it probably didn’t even dent the surface of what Loki had experienced; she was curious, though, and she knew probing was probably a bad idea, but she was sure that if she  _ knew  _ what had plagued Loki, then perhaps she could help him heal.

 

“What did you dream about, Loki? While you were in the coma?”

 

Loki’s fingers touched his own lips, as if his hands had a mind of their own and were refusing to let him speak, keeping the thoughts and memories that disturbed him locked away. He shook his head, unwilling to divulge, and Amelia did not push further.

 

She nodded her head, “Alright”, her voice was soft, “Let’s try to sleep.” Loki followed her lead to slip back down into a lying position, and Amelia planted her head on the pillow, closing her eyes and allowing herself to relax a little more. As she was drifting off, tentative fingers intertwined with her own below the covers, and she welcomed them with a gentle squeeze.

 

* * *

 

For the following three days, Loki seemed attached to Amelia with an invisible thread, never letting her out of his sight for too long. At first, Amelia was grateful that he wanted to be near her all the time - it felt like a good development, a step in the right direction in mending the frayed bonds between them, but as the week rolled on, she found that it wasn’t quite so.

 

Initially, Loki just wanted to walk her to and from work, which Amelia happily allowed, because the thought of potentially getting jumped by a criminal again was not very appealing, but then on her lunch break, as she left the florist to head to the adjacent cafe, Loki practically materialised at her side, insisting he join her.

 

He didn’t make an effort to give her much room, and walked just behind her in stride, acting more like her bodyguard than her boyfriend; he didn’t speak much, either, making things more than a little awkward as Amelia ordered her meal and found her seat.

 

“Are you just going to stare at me while I eat?” Amelia enquired aloud after several minutes of mild discomfort. She really couldn’t stand feeling self-conscious while stuffing her mouth with pasta, Loki’s eyes burning endlessly into her face like he wanted something from her but didn’t know how to ask, “If you’re hungry, you should’ve said something. I would’ve bought you some food, y’know.”

 

“I’m not hungry.”

 

“Okay, so why are you watching me eat my pasta salad like my face holds the key to universe?” Loki’s intent gaze dropped to the table with resignation and he leaned forward slightly in his seat, repositioning his arm so that he could rest his chin in his palm, elbow propped on the table.

 

“I’m just acting natural. I do not wish to draw attention to myself.” Loki responded with clipped words, his tone a low rumble, sinking easily into the midday drawl of the relatively roomy cafe.

 

“Acting natural?” Amelia had to fight not to snort, “If that’s your way of acting natural, I’d hate to see your way of acting strange. You couldn’t be more conspicuous if you tried.” In comparison to the occupants of the rest of the room, Loki stood out like a sore thumb; the upbeat music playing over the speakers left a loose atmosphere in the room - people were enjoying their lunch slouched in their seats as they spoke with their friends or poured over their digital devices. Loki’s straight back and tight posture was noticeably among the crowd from perhaps a mile off, it was a miracle nobody had clocked his identity yet.

 

Loki frowned, a deep furrow in his brow, “What do you suggest I do, then?” He sounded vexed at her quip, which only went to show how much these past few months had drastically changed him; he once met her lighthearted jests with amusement or cheek, but now he seemed to take her playful words as purposely offending. Amelia wasn’t a fan of the terseness in his voice.

 

She lowered her fork and leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest, “Alright, what the hell’s gotten into you?” Loki was aggravated for seemingly no reason - something was bothering him and she was going to get to the bottom of it.

 

Loki didn’t respond, but his body language changed along with her’s. He clasped his hands on the table in front of him, back becoming straight once more, and began gnawing the inside of his pursed lips with disdain.

 

Affronted by Loki’s behaviour, Amelia’s lips parted, “Remember what I said about communication, Loki?” His silence wasn’t going to help matters; hiding the reason for his displeasure wasn’t going to help matters either - he needed to be honest and upfront.

 

“I saw you flirting with that man earlier.”

 

It took a few moments for Loki’s words to sink in, but when they did, Amelia’s jaw fell in surprise. “Wait. What?”

 

_ “I saw you earlier”,  _ Loki responded curtly, “in the shop. There was a man flirting with you, and you were flirting with him.”

 

Amelia combed her mind for the incident Loki was describing. There had been a customer - a young man in his early twenties, perhaps, who had been overly smiley and kept wiggling his eyebrows at her suggestively, but she sure as hell hadn’t been flirting with him.

 

That had been at least two hours into her shift.

 

“Have you been invisibly following me around again?” Amelia asked concisely, growing fiery at the thought,  _ “Spying  _ on me without my knowledge?  _ Loki?” _

 

“So you don’t deny it? You  _ were _ flirting with him.”

 

Amelia wanted to slam her fists against the table and shout, but at the same time she really didn’t want to cause a scene in the cafe she frequented so often; instead, she settled for running her hands over her face in a blatant show of infuriation, and took a deep, steadying breath.

 

“Tell me exactly what I was doing that constitutes as  _ flirting,  _ Loki.”

 

Loki’s eyes twitched and narrowed, “You were smiling at him”, he pointed out, “and putting on a voice, it sounded sweeter than normal.”

 

Gritting her teeth, Amelia looked him in the eye, “It’s called  _ customer service,  _ Loki. I have to smile at customers, it’s part of my damn job, and I have to sound  _ happy and delighted  _ to serve them, even if I feel like ripping their heads off.”

 

Loki’s bristled shoulders lowered a little, revealing that his accusatory case against her hadn’t been very loaded, “But-”

Amelia swiftly cut him off, “I  _ smile  _ at a slice of chocolate cake, does that mean I’m fucking flirting with it?” She breathed another sigh to calm herself down, taking her sharp tone down a peg, “We’ve been over this, Loki. Do you really think after everything that’s happened, I would go after other men when I think you’re not looking?” Her loyalty to stay by his side even through his most unruly treatment of her should have been evidence enough.

 

Loki’s eyes fell to the table, his stony posture melting into a slouch.

 

“Why do you still think it’s okay to conceal your presence and follow me around?” She poured a sense of desperation into her voice to convey the fact that that kind of behaviour was simply  _ not okay. _

 

“I just wanted to be around you.” He answered. “I’m sorry, Amelia. I am.” His eyes were contrite and his lips twitched with uncertainty, “I feel I have to make up for how much I’ve neglected to be there for you. Especially after the events of Sunday.”

 

“Yeah, well”, Amelia muttered, shaking her head, “I don’t need you surveying every second of my life, so you can go back to the tower and wait for my shift to end if you want to walk me home. We need to talk later. Go back and let me eat my lunch in peace.”

 

Loki conceded, eyes falling shut regrettably for a few moments before he reluctantly nodded his head and rose from the table.

 

He left the cafe, leaving Amelia by herself amid the oblivious people of Manhattan - people who were too lost in their lunch to realise  _ the  _ Loki had just been sat among them - and she wasted no time in continuing to eat, now with a sulky mood settling in.

 

Loki was going to get an earful when they returned to the tower that afternoon.

 

* * *

 

When Friday arrived, it suddenly dawned on Amelia that she hadn’t yet informed Loki of Natasha’s proposal of self-defense lessons; it became clear earlier that morning when Loki suggested they go for a walk through Central Park at midday and find a nice restaurant in which to eat lunch - an approach to begin to make up for his mistakes.

 

“Ah”, Amelia murmured as she tamed her hair in front of the mirror, pausing to glance over at him, “Sorry, I have something planned…”

 

“What?” Loki frowned, “Why? What are you doing?”

 

Amelia shrugged sheepishly, “Going to the training room… Natasha’s gonna teach me how to defend myself.”

 

Loki’s ensuing silence had her turning away from the mirror to face him, searching his unreadable expression for any clue to explain his thoughts.

 

“Oh.” He finally replied, and Amelia cocked an eyebrow.

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

Loki held her gaze from where he sat on the edge of the bed, and Amelia was beginning to discern what his long pauses meant - he was envisioning what kind of reaction he would garner from her if he spoke what was on his mind. He was taking the time to think the conversation through in case he inadvertently ended up upsetting her, and Amelia had to admit, it was considerate, in a way, but there was such a thing as being overly cautious, and Loki was quickly approaching that line.

 

“I don’t see why you would need to learn that. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.” He told her, and Amelia’s face fell.

 

“Because,  _ as you know,  _ you can’t always be hovering over my shoulder every second of the day”, she’d certainly drilled that into his mind after he’d shadowed her at work without her knowledge, “And I would like to be the slightest bit independent when it comes to protecting myself. I don’t like being forced to rely on people. If I know at least some basic self-defense, then that’s a little assurance that I can take care of myself when no one else is around.”

 

Loki nodded his head, his expression growing pointed, “Then why didn’t you ask me? I would gladly have aided you in that endeavour.” Amelia wasn’t so sure of that.

 

“Well it wasn’t my idea. It was Natasha’s, and I think it’ll be good for me.”

 

He didn’t look overly happy about it, but Amelia was unphased by his stare.

 

She rolled her eyes, turning back to the mirror to run her fingers through her hair, forcing it into a more presentable position. “Natasha’s pretty cool. I’m sure she’ll be a great teacher.”

 

Loki huffed, “You think a mortal woman who has been training in combat for thirty years is more suitable to teach you to be a fighter than a god who has had over a thousand years of experience?”

 

“She’s not teaching me to be a fighter. She’s teaching me self-defense.  _ There’s a difference.  _ Also, yes, I think a mortal woman would be a better teacher for a student who is also a mortal woman”, Amelia poked her tongue out at Loki, “She’s more likely to know my limits. What I can and can’t do. Not like you-” she waved her fingers comically, “-immortal god with your endless stamina.”

 

“Hm. You’ve never complained about my endless stamina before.” Amelia could hear the smirk in his voice and it brought a red flush to her cheeks.

 

“Shut up.” She grumbled.

 

“So when is this lesson taking place? I would very much like to watch.”

 

Amelia’s eyes widened, growing even more flustered, “What? No. You can’t watch.” The thought of having an audience was embarrassing, especially if she turned out to be not very good; the last thing Amelia wanted was to have anyone finding amusement in her struggles.

 

“Actually, I can. And you cannot stop me”, Loki stood, a knowing smile on his face, “What time does it begin?”

 

“Three o’clock”, Amelia lied.

 

“Liar.”

 

“Ugh, fine. It’s at two.”

 

Loki’s smile widened, leaning so that he was eye to eye with Amelia,  _ “Liar.”  _

 

There was something playful in his taunt, and Amelia’s lips drew into a pout, her eyes narrowing with a level of indignation that wasn’t entirely genuine. “I’m not lying”, she claimed, “It’s at two o’clock!”

 

“One o’clock?” Loki guessed, and Amelia pursed her lips, giving her head a tight shake, to which the god actually let out a chuckle, “So it  _ is  _ at one o’clock. I’ll be there waiting”, he had the audacity to give her a wink. “You can’t lie to the god of lies, darling.”

 

The impishly spoken epithet sent a shiver down Amelia’s spine, her eyes widening slightly as she watched Loki’s gaze drop fleetingly to her lips and then back, and his face slowly fell; he cleared his throat quietly and stepped away from her. 

 

For a transient moment in time, everything had fallen back into the right place. Loki had seemed himself for the first time in many months, but the moment, however brief, stuck with Amelia for hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Self-defense lessons from Nat while Loki sneaks glances at Amelia + something real good happens! :D Hope you're all excited! As always, I'd love to hear your feedback and whether you're excited for more!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're all so wonderful and patient <3
> 
> Here's a longer chapter - I'm forever thankful for your support <3

Loki arrived in the training room far in advance of Amelia’s lesson, determined to interject himself casually amongst the individuals already present in the hopes that he would appear unobtrusive. No such luck occurred; the sound of him drew all eyes, eyes that housed the most studious of gazes when directed at the God of Mischief,  _ naturally,  _ so Loki continued to sweep in towards his brother while disregarding the glares.

 

“Loki”, Thor greeted with a cocked eyebrow as he knelt to tie his boots, “Are you well, today?”

 

His brother’s enquiry was shrouded with subtext, a carefully disguised way of asking  _ ‘are you still acting normal or have you gone and lost your mind again?’  _ without actually saying those words; Loki chose to snub the cringeworthy small-talk, and instead jumped straight to the point.

 

“Care for a spar, brother?”

 

Thor snuffled with an air of humour about him, “Hm, why else would you be here?” he rhetorically asked himself, oblivious to the knowledge that Loki had only come to sneak glances at Amelia as she underwent her first lesson in self-defense, and to ensure that Natasha Romanoff was teaching her adequately.

 

When Thor began his regular pre-sparring stretches, Loki took that as an affirmation and proceeded to do the same, making sure that his body was warm, loose, and ready for a fight of relative exertion. Loki knew his brother always held back from using his full power in their little fight sessions, which was fine, because so did he -  _ and  _ if either of them did endeavour to use their full strength, they could potentially bring the tower crumbling down; in this particular fight, it was going to be a good thing that Thor was going easy, because half of Loki’s attention was going to be perpetually on the other side of the room, keeping a close eye on Amelia.

 

It was several minutes before the elevator doors opened, and Amelia stepped into the room; Loki made certain to avoid turning his gaze on her until a fair few moments had passed by - after all, while he wanted to get a good eyeful of how she progressed, he didn’t want any blatant ogling on his part to distract her from actually learning some useful moves. 

 

When he could no longer feel her eyes burning into him, he glanced over his shoulder and took in her appearance; Amelia looked particularly endearing in her new work-out attire, but she seemed shy about it - her posture was rather curled in and she kept her arms close to her body, trying to look small and unnoticeable. She really didn’t have anything to be self-conscious about, though. 

 

Her hair was clipped back out of her eyes, she had a small towel slung around her neck and in her hand she clenched a bottle of water in a white-knuckled grip - her nervousness was transparent. She’d been highly averse to Loki’s presence during her lesson, and he couldn’t help but assume that her skittishness was a direct result of his overt leering.

 

_ But why, though?  _ What kind of judgement did she expect from him to cause such antsy behaviour?

 

Loki’s eyes were drawn to her body. She looked indisputably desirable in her black skin-tight leggings, which wonderfully accentuated the plumpness of her thighs, and below the flimsy, purple tank top, Loki could just about catch a glimpse of the tight sports-bra keeping everything held in. 

 

Since the day Loki had woken from that damned coma, Amelia had slowly but surely gained a little weight back from the unhealthy scrawniness he had initially laid his eyes upon; he felt awful for ever pointing it out so cruelly, but he was glad Amelia was now eating well enough again.

 

Seeing her now, in such a figure-hugging ensemble, sent a delightful tingle up his spine, and reminded him that it had been far too long since he and Amelia had been intimate - due to unfortunate circumstances. He wanted so badly for that to change.

 

But Amelia had yet to initiate any sort of affectionate contact with him in private, let alone any of a sexual nature, so it was unclear as to when such acts would resume between them. Loki needed to fix everything else first.

 

“Done staring, brother?”

 

Loki’s attention was pulled back to Thor, whose sly interposition had interrupted his train of thought; his lip curled in annoyance at the smug and suggestive arch in the other god’s eyebrow.

 

“No.” Loki answered, and returned his watchful stare to the women across the room, but not before catching the roll of his brother’s mismatched eyes.

 

* * *

 

Amelia was not psyched to learn that there were more people than expected in the training room at that hour. Not only was Loki there across the room, pretending not to see her as she walked in, but Thor, Clint and Steve were also present - granted, Steve and Clint seemed preoccupied with their own training, striking the punching bag and shooting targets respectively - and it was incredibly disconcerting. The prospect of an audience was entirely off-putting, and immediately Amelia began having second thoughts.

 

She was going to make a fool of herself, she just knew it. She could already picture herself flushed with embarrassment at doing something completely stupid while Natasha shook her head in disappointment and everybody else pointed and laughed.  _ Ugh,  _ why had she gotten herself into this? She should’ve just refused. There was still time to turn around and catch the elevator back up - she could just wrap herself in a blanket and watch a movie instead of exposing herself to such a mortifying situation.

 

“Glad you came”, Natasha greeted from the small, padded arena ahead before Amelia could turn and run. 

 

Amelia cringed inwardly.  _ Too slow.  _ She was going to have to do this; it had seemed far less daunting up until the minute she stepped into the training room, but now with so many people around, she found she had regressed into a stuttering mess.

 

“Uh, y-yeah. It’s, uh, yeah, cool. Glad to be here. Um”, she already wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole. It really didn’t help that she could see Loki peering at her out of the corner of her eye, “So, uh, where do we begin?” She just wanted to get it over and done with now.

 

“You can place your things on the bench over there”, Natasha motioned with a nod of her head as she began twist and arch her body in preparatory stretches, “and then you can work on warming your body up. Just do as I do.”

 

Amelia nodded, doing as she was told.

 

Stretching was simple enough, but after the first few minutes, Amelia could tell from Natasha’s inquisitive gaze that she could see the tense anxiety that failed to dissolve from her posture.

 

“You’re nervous.” Natasha noticed, “Why?”

 

Amelia bit her lip, sparing a wary glance to the rest of the room. Loki and Thor were now engaged in a fight - there were no longer eyes burning into her, so she let out a sigh and placed her hands on her hips, “I just… feel like I’m going to embarrass myself.”

 

Natasha tilted her head, an enlightened look on her face, and offered a smile, “If it’s any consolation, I don’t  _ expect _ you to know how to fight. That’s why we’re doing this, right?”

 

“Yeah I know”, Amelia smiled awkwardly, “But still…”

 

Natasha shook her head, “Don’t fret, kid, you’re fine. Here’s what I was thinking; I’m gonna start off teaching you some tips and a few words of advice, and after that I’ll show you some moves.”

 

Amelia nodded her head, rubbing her hands together in preparation, “Okay, that sounds good.” She was somewhat placated by Natasha’s assurance, and a sweeping glance around the room made it clear that nobody was pointedly looking her way. Loki seemed deeply concentrated in his spar with Thor, ducking and diving to avoid strikes from the God of Thunder, he didn’t seem to even have a moment to pin his eyes on her.  _ Good. _

 

Her eyes lingered on the God of Mischief, watching him move with refined agility - every step he took, every twist, every duck and dive, every punch and kick was  _ calculated,  _ completely thought out even before each reflexive motion had travelled from his brain to his limbs. It was wildly impressive to see, and Amelia wondered then why she’d never thought to sit in on Loki’s spar sessions before. His form was beautiful. She couldn’t even imagine fighting in such a way herself.

 

Before she could spend too long staring, Amelia tore her eyes away and placed her attention back on Natasha, who was just about finished with her stretches. “You ready?” Natasha asked, to which Amelia nodded in affirmation. If the Black Widow had noticed her distractedness towards Loki’s swift movements, she did not say anything.

 

“There’s one thing I want to establish first and foremost. This lesson, and all future ones, are meant to give you a way to defend yourself if you have no other choice but to fight your way out of a situation. They are by no means meant to turn you into a professional fighter. That takes many years of intense training. What I’m saying is, don’t go looking for fights just because you’ve been taught a few moves.” Her words were firm and Amelia didn’t dare take them lightly.

 

“I understand”, Amelia spoke, her hands fidgeting before her for lack of a better thing to do.

 

Natasha’s lips quirked up in a smile, “If you can diffuse a potentially dangerous situation by talking someone back, or if you can run away, or hide, I recommend you do that. You need only resort to physically defending yourself if violence is unavoidable.”

 

Amelia gave an amused huff, “Got it. Trust me, I’m the last person that’s gonna go looking for dangerous situations.”

 

“Just making sure”, Natasha remarked, before placing her hands on her hips, “Alright, the first thing I want you to do is make a fist with you hand. As if you were going to punch someone.”

 

Amelia blinked at the oddness of the request, but went ahead and balled her hand, holding it up to show the woman, “Like this?”

 

A knowing look passed over Natasha’s face, her small smile revealing an air of amusement and assimilation, “You’ve never been in a fight in your life, have you?”

 

Amelia’s face fell slightly, a red tint to her cheeks, “Have I already messed up?”

 

“Heh, I already said I don’t expect you to know these things. Your thumb is tucked into your palm - that’s a no-go, unless you want to break it with a punch, that is.” Natasha clenched a fist, showing Amelia the correct way to ball her fist for a strike, “Thumb goes on the outside, like this.”

 

Brushing off the flutter of embarrassment, Amelia rectified the position of her thumb as shown, chancing a quick peek over her shoulder to check Loki wasn’t already laughing at her first mistake. He wasn’t, thankfully. Still engrossed in trying to avoid Thor’s fist as it was thrust in the general direction of his face.

 

“It’s puzzling to me how the two of you ended up together.”

 

Amelia’s head snapped back round to Natasha questioningly, wide eyes blinking, “Huh?”

 

“You and Loki”, Natasha clarified, following where Amelia’s gaze had been moments ago, a curious look on her face, “The two of you seem nothing alike. Complete opposites, in fact. I wouldn’t have expected someone like Loki would be drawn to someone like you.”

 

Amelia silently chewed her bottom lip for a few moments, still processing the woman’s words, and Natasha quickly amended herself, “I don’t mean that as any type of insult”, she spoke quickly, as though worried her comment had offended, “It’s just… you seem… quiet and kind. Loki is more… brash, quick to anger, cruel…”

 

Natasha trailed off, looking pointedly at Amelia. The things Natasha said weren’t strictly untrue, but Amelia knew that there was more to Loki than what everybody saw on the surface.

 

With a sigh, Amelia responded, “Well, I think the fact is… you’ve only caught him on his bad days.”

 

Natasha blinked and inclined her head cynically, but there was a quirk of her eyebrow that led Amelia to believe her words were being considered.

 

* * *

 

Every time Loki spared Amelia a glance, she was paying rapt attention to the Black Widow, nodding her head as the blonde woman presumably lectured on and on about methods of fighting and whatnot. It was all moving rather slowly; he wanted to see some  _ action.  _ Though he didn’t suppose it was realistic that she would be launched straight into it.

 

_ He wanted to hear what was being said. _

 

Loki somersaulted backwards through the air to avoid a heavy strike from his brother and threw his hands up in a time-out gesture, “Wait, Thor. I’m done for the moment.” 

 

The God of Thunder lowered his fists with a scrutinising gaze, “You didn’t really come here to spar, did you? You  _ really  _ just came to spy on Amelia. Not very chivalrous of you, brother.”

 

Ignoring the other god’s teasing remark, Loki turned his back and began marching towards the arena Amelia and Natasha were occupying. He sat on the spectator bench, relaxed and observing pointedly, and smirked as Amelia sent him a dirty look. “Don’t mind me”, he slyly taunted, and she huffed in response, her whole demeanour becoming grumpy.

 

Natasha simply paid him no heed, and continued with her lesson unfazed.

 

“When you’re outmatched in size and strength, the most important thing is to go for the weak points. It doesn’t matter who you’re fighting,  _ every  _ person has vulnerable spots. Tell me, if you fought an opponent, where would your natural instincts prompt you to attack?”

 

Amelia’s mouth fell open, and she blinked, her gaze falling away from her teacher with a clear lack of confidence, “Uhm… uh… the face?” She answered with such a lack of conviction; her voice wobbled and her face reddened, and Loki was convinced he’d never seen her so uncertain in all the time he’d known her.

 

“Right”, Natasha affirmed, and just like that, Amelia’s lips subtly curled upwards and her demeanour changed. Her cheeks still retained that pretty pink tint, but she raised her chin, a little more sure of herself than before. “We all have that primal gut feeling that tells us where’s best to strike, so be sure to follow your intuition in the middle of a fight.”

 

Loki’s brow furrowed with condescension. It seemed ridiculous that Amelia would answer with such an obvious response and be met with praise instead of criticism at how weak her voice was when she spoke. If he had ever been so irresolute in his training sessions as a child, he would have been met with reproval, and been shamed into doing better next time.  _ Not  _ gently encouraged.

 

“You might feel that you stand little chance against an opponent who surpasses you in terms of size, weight and strength, but this doesn’t mean you are helpless to defend yourself. You can strategically use your body and the simple laws of physics. Leverage your weight correctly and you can have the upper hand.” Natasha explained, and Loki refrained from rolling his eyes. 

 

It was true that a small opponent could take down one larger, but it required skill and speed - two things that Amelia clearly lacked. Her hand-eye coordination was mediocre at best, and Loki could already imagine how clumsy her footwork was going to be.

 

When Natasha went on to explain the seven basic punches, performing them slowly as she identified them, Loki couldn’t help but interrupt with a pragmatic remark, “You’re not going to get anywhere teaching Amelia about hand strikes when her strength lies mainly in her legs. Show her how to kick. Show her something she can actually utilise.”

 

Natasha didn’t seem particularly irritated by Loki’s interjection, but then, she was known for having a firm grasp on her expression and emotions, so it was entirely plausible that beneath that calm exterior, she wanted to throttle him for opening his mouth. Amelia, on the other hand, placed her hands on her hips and looked incredibly close to stamping her feet like an angry child.

 

“What leads you to believe Amelia would fair better in lower body strikes as opposed to hand strikes?” It was a reasonable question of genuine curiosity, and Loki’s gaze rolled lazily over Amelia’s body - looking pointedly at her thin arms before landing on her larger thighs. While her muscles weren’t overly defined, her legs were definitely firmer and stronger than her arms - anyone could tell from a look, so it wasn’t immediately apparent as to why Natasha couldn’t see that.

 

But then Loki’s eyes narrowed, and he wondered whether Natasha was trying to prompt an answer from him that Amelia could potentially find offensive. He knew mortal women did not take well to others discussing their bodies, and he didn’t doubt that any of his prior thoughts spoken aloud would sound at all innocuous to Amelia’s ears.

 

Instead, he went with an answer that he knew Amelia would happily verify, “Amelia used to ice-skate, and she often participated in trampolining activities - both ventures that are known for strengthening the leg muscles. On top of that, she walks to and from work every day, a thirty minute commute either way”, he felt his lips curl smugly, “Her strength lies in her legs.”

 

The fiery annoyance that had been crackling in Amelia’s dark brown eyes seem to fizzle out at Loki’s answer, and instead she looked pleased, raising her eyebrows in agreement of his words. Natasha held Loki’s gaze solidly for an extended moment, and as per her mastery of disguising her true emotions, he couldn’t quite decipher what thoughts her stoic face suggested.

 

Looking back to Amelia, Natasha caught the accordance in her expression, and seemed to devise a new plan in her mind on the spot, “Very well, then. Amelia, if you’re happy to focus on moves that employ the strength of your lower body, that can be arranged.”

 

Despite the flicker of apprehension that grasped her, Amelia nodded her head after a moment, and Loki felt a subtle swell of victory at the turn of events. Natasha spared a glance across the room to where Steve Rogers was still battering one of the suspended stuffed bags.

 

“I was going to have Amelia practise on a punching bag, but since you’re so eager to offer your input, Loki, perhaps you would like to play the part of her opponent?”

 

Loki’s eyebrows rose, and in the same moment, Amelia seemed to almost trip over her own feet. She faced Natasha abruptly with an incredulous look, but couldn’t sputter more than an unintelligible  _ ‘what?’  _

 

“I believe it would be more practical for you to execute your attacks on a living individual”, Natasha clarified to her, before addressing Loki again, “Well?”

 

He couldn’t deny that the idea of Amelia practising hand-to-hand combat with him sounded quite inviting, and not only that, but Amelia’s face had gone an endearing shade of pink, which compelled him to accept the proposal. “Fine”, he spoke, and sprung over the padded barrier that boxed in the arena with little effort.

 

Amelia was visibly chewing at her lip, a nervous little tick that made her seem small and exposed, but she pinned Loki with a determined look that sent a wave of excitement down his spine and pulled his lips into a smile.

 

“There are four basic kicks in beginner’s Martial Arts. The side kick, the front kick, the front push kick, and the roundhouse”, Natasha went on to explain, “I’m going to teach you how to execute them on Loki.”

 

Loki watched the ensuing demonstration in which Natasha performed each named kick slowly, highlighting her stance and how she utilised her body to put force into each move; Amelia paid close attention, soaking up every instruction like a sponge, and Loki wondered whether Amelia would be so riveted if  _ he  _ were the one teaching her self-defense.

 

“Alright, we’ll start with the side kick”, Natasha directed, situating Amelia before Loki with an encouraging hand on her arm, “It’s easy to execute and easy to land. You want to aim for the thigh. Loki is going to stand still-”, she shot him a pointed look to which Loki rolled his eyes, “-in order to give you an easy target.”

 

Amelia nodded her head and took the position Natasha had indicated, looking more than a little awkward and unsure of herself. With her left leg stabilising, she took her right leg off the ground, twisting slightly as she did so, and thrust her foot against the front of Loki’s thigh. He barely felt it and didn’t move an inch.

 

Loki could have used up three rolls of parchment explaining all the things Amelia had done wrong in her first attempt at the kick, but Natasha kept her criticism concise and to the point.

 

“Make sure your heel is pointing towards the target. Try again.”

 

The second attempt was a little less flimsy, but far -  _ far  _ \- from perfect.

 

“Lean more into it. Don’t be afraid to give it more force”, was Natasha’s second evaluation.

 

After three more tries, Amelia finally achieved the minimum of what Loki would generously identify as a kick with damaging intent. He was surprised it took her five whole attempts to get the posture and position right, but he didn’t think Amelia’s move was strong enough to harm even a child.

 

“If you’re holding back your strength because you think you’re going to hurt me, then stop. It would take a hundred times the strength of your kick to even  _ bruise  _ me. You need to put more effort into it.” Loki advised bluntly, and Amelia’s face creased with frustration.

 

“I’m  _ not  _ holding back.” She claimed, but Loki knew she wasn’t  _ that  _ weak.

 

“An infant could kick harder”, he chided with a smirk, intending to rile her up. If she was provoked, perhaps she wouldn’t be so lenient with the power behind her strikes.

 

“Oh, shut  _ up.  _ Asshole.” Amelia snapped back, crossing her arms over her chest with displeasure, “Nat, does Loki  _ have  _ to be here? I’d rather practise on a punching bag - at least it’d be more pleasant company.” Her eyebrows were angled with exasperation, now staring Loki down with less determination and more infuriation.

 

Natasha looked between the two silently for a few moments, ever impassive, before shaking her head, “Let’s move onto the next kick.”

 

Amelia was not thrilled.

 

The following three types of moves were performed in much the same way as the first - with a sheer lack of confidence, and a blundering sense of repetition. All Loki felt was nothing more than a feeble nudge whenever Amelia’s lower leg or foot came in contact with his body - not to mention, Amelia almost completely lost her balance in her attempt of the roundhouse kick and Loki had to grab her foot mid-kick to keep her from tumbling over.

 

It was oddly disappointing. He hadn’t expected her to be great at inflicting damage on an opponent, but he had hoped there would be some modicum of potential skill. He wasn’t sure why  _ exactly  _ he felt disappointment over it, because it gave him an excuse to remain close and keep a protective watch over her as he had initially wanted.

 

But Amelia looked deflated and upset. Despite her nervousness, she had seemed excited at the prospect to learn to defend herself, but as the lesson had continued on, her will and determination had faltered.

 

“You did great for your first lesson. I’m impressed”, Natasha commended, and it sounded so genuine despite being  _ so  _ untrue that Loki almost experienced whiplash with how quickly he turned to the Black Widow.

 

Amelia seemed just as surprised, blinking fast before quietly murmuring, “what, really?”

 

“Absolutely”, Natasha spoke, smiling with sincerity, “How about we do this the same time next week? I’d like to show you how to break out of a hold, and how to disarm somebody with a weapon, and we can practise your kicks again afterwards. What do you think?”

 

Amelia’s mouth hung open as she stared dumbly at the woman, before finally coming to a decision, “...yeah. Okay. Yeah”, and she smiled a suddenly buoyant smile, “I’d like that.”

 

Natasha seemed pleased, and at her dismissal, Amelia exited the arena and headed towards the bench where she’d laid down her towel, but not before throwing a rather smug expression in Loki’s general direction, to which he quietly scoffed.

 

When Amelia was out of earshot, Natasha turned on Loki with a countenance that was far from happy, “Enough of your criticisms. You have to encourage her, even if you think her executions were subpar.”

 

Loki wanted to snarl at her nerve to order him around, but instead he huffed, “No. If she makes a mistake, she should be told so. That is how I was taught and that is how I became stronger.”

 

Natasha glanced over her shoulder at Amelia, and then continued in a hushed tone, “Unlike you, Amelia thrives on positive feedback. She doesn’t hold the same mentality as you when it comes to proving oneself - I’ve spent a total of several hours in her presence and  _ I know that”,  _ her assumptions and tone of voice sparked anger in Loki, but before he could retort, Natasha spoke on,  _ “Encourage her,  _ and she’ll build confidence. She’ll get better. If you insult her, she won’t improve. She won’t know what to do when she’s forced into a fight she can’t run away from.”

 

Loki paused with his lips parted, letting the woman’s words sink in before he grinded his teeth together and  _ glared,  _ “I wouldn’t let it come to that.”

 

“You might not have control over that, Loki.”

 

Natasha walked away, leaving Loki feeling crotchety and, surprisingly, divided.

 

He caught sight of Amelia walking towards the elevator and quickly followed after her, slipping in through the steel doors before they could close shut behind her; she was clearly flustered, and refused to speak to him, purposefully staring away at her blurred reflection in the silvery walls.

 

Perhaps the Black Widow had a point. Perhaps Amelia’s waning determination had been a result of his harsh words cutting into her and making her unwilling to keep trying with everything she had. 

 

Loki frowned. His childhood training had only ever been a constant cycle of taking his father’s harsh condemnation and using it to fuel his desire to prove the old man wrong; his determination had grown from anger, but Amelia did not share the same experience. From what Loki understood, she’d never felt the need to prove anything to her father. She’d written him off as a bad person and kept far away from him. Loki couldn’t imagine being so unassertive.

 

Learning magic had been admittedly different. Loki’s mother had been kinder and more… uplifting. Frigga had encouraged and supported him, bolstering his confidence instead of disparaging him, and in the end, his success in magic was of far more value to him than his hand-to-hand combat.

 

Perhaps Natasha had been entirely correct, and Loki really had just been an utter asshole for the past hour or so.

 

* * *

 

Amelia wordlessly seethed as the elevator rose to the upper levels of the tower, trying to ignore the fact that Loki was standing close beside her, glancing at her every few moments, acting as though he hadn’t done anything to prompt the surge of agitation in her.

 

_ What was his damn problem?  _ Amelia couldn’t even begin to imagine why he had felt the need to pester her with unnecessary insults, pointing out every single error she made. It was unneeded, and frankly, unwanted. It was precisely the reason she had hoped Loki wouldn’t be there for her lesson.

 

Her dismayed thoughts were interrupted by Loki’s soft voice breaking through the extended silence, “I’m sorry.”

 

Amelia looked back at him, terse but quizzical in expression, and her lack of response prompted Loki to continue.

 

“I should not have said the things I said. I truly did not believe my words were going to have such a negative effect on you.”

 

A frown grew on Amelia’s face, “Wow, really? You didn’t think all those horrible things would make me feel bad? Did you think I’d be delighted to hear you telling me how awful I am at something I’ve never actually done before?” 

 

Loki shook his head and sighed, “I made a mistake. My father was always so critical of me and it made me more adamant to prove him wrong. I thought perhaps you would react similarly, but I was wrong. I’m sorry, Amelia.”

 

Amelia felt her anger diminish somewhat, but the fact that he had said all those things in the first place still left a lingering discontent in the pit of her stomach. “So… did you actually mean any of the things you said, or were you just saying it to try and generate that reaction?”

 

Loki looked at her, his lips pursed and his face unreadable for the longest few moments, until his face softened and he endeavoured to offer a smile, “No. You did good.”

 

Amelia felt somewhat relieved to know that Loki didn’t think her self-defense attempts were entirely useless. She returned the small smile and nodded her head, “Okay. Good.”

 

The elevator doors opened and Amelia stepped out onto their floor, taking note of the way Loki fell smoothly in step beside her. She thought the edge of eagerness in his pace was weird, but when she felt his hand try to curl around her own, she snapped her wrist up, pouting with displeasure as she stared him down.

 

“No. I’m still mad at you.”

 

Loki almost appeared to mimic her pout - a more restrained one, at least - but he trailed along after her nevertheless, “I said sorry”, he spoke with a childish air to his tone.

 

“Yeah, but if I forgave you so easily every time you pissed me off, you’d never learn”, Amelia retorted, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take a shower - and no, you’re not invited.” She made a move to march through the door of their bedroom, but Loki grabbed her arm.

 

“Wait. Can I make it up to you?”

 

“I don’t know.  _ Can  _ you?” Amelia countered, feeling a little bolder than usual. She quirked an eyebrow and put a hand on her hip for good measure.

 

Loki’s mouth twitched faintly, “Could we perhaps go for that walk in Central Park? The one I promised you a while ago?”

 

There was a twinge of pleading in his tone that Amelia did not fail to pick up on, and she sighed, unable to stay angry at him. “...Alright, fine. But after I shower.” There was no room for argument, but Loki seemed content to wait; the corner of his lips curled ever so slightly upwards to show that he was thankful for the chance to atone for his carelessness in the training room.

 

* * *

 

The ground was damp but the skies were clear, the sun shining through the yellowing leaves of the trees above, and Amelia’s footsteps came down with a crunch on the orange and brown leaves that had already fallen, having submitted to the autumnal season and its exposing elements.

 

Simply being in Central Park and breathing in the earthy scent was all that was needed to make Amelia’s mood soar. The warm colours were striking, a welcoming contrast to the chilly weather, and everything about it felt crisp and fresh. Beautiful.

 

It had been a while since she’d been on a walk with Loki that hadn’t felt tense; it was different when he accompanied her to work - everything was rushed and the bustle of Manhattan citizens was usually overwhelming - but here in the wide open space of the park, Amelia felt like she could joyfully spin around and not have to worry about bumping into someone.

 

There were quite a few people around, but it wasn’t  _ crowded _ like the streets. It was only mid-to-late afternoon, so most people were still occupied with their jobs that didn’t finish until five o’clock. It was a pleasant day with a pleasant air, and Amelia only wished her life could be like this all the time.

 

When the world was passing by, simply minding its own business, Amelia could allow herself to peacefully drift through her thoughts, soothed simultaneously by the warm sun on her face and the cool breeze travelling towards her. Her train of thought seemed deeply entrenched in the scene she had taken note of earlier that day, when Loki was sparring with his brother in the training room, before her lesson had begun.

 

“Do you like fighting?” the enquiry tumbled from her lips with burgeoning curiosity, and Loki looked at her with suspicion over the subject matter.

 

“Why do you ask?” Loki countered.

 

“You seem to do it a lot. With Thor in the training room, I mean.”

 

“That’s sparring. To keep our skills sharp, and to train ourselves to be better. Whether its speed, power or strategy.”

 

“Okay”, Amelia acknowledged, “But why? Do you  _ enjoy  _ it?”

 

Loki’s tone took on a vaguely defensive note, “It passes the time nicely.”

 

A sense of deja vu overcame Amelia for a few moments, and she squinted her eyes in recollection, “I’m sure you’ve said that before about something else. You always seem to just be  _ passing the time.  _ Are you waiting for something to happen?”

 

Loki huffed, shaking his head, “You’re reading too much into it.”

 

“Am I, though?” Amelia’s voice took on a purposely annoying, squeaky pitch, “When was the last time you slowed down and enjoyed life?” She was sure she wasn’t looking too hard into Loki’s weird habit of simply doing things to pass the time. He had always been so rigid and high-strung, but it seemed more apparent recently - then again, that could just be attributed to everything that had happened the past couple months. It’d be enough to set anyone on edge for a long while.

 

Loki looked contemplative, actually taking the time to think about Amelia’s question as they walked idly down the long stretch of path. His lips parted after a few moments and he seemed tentative about his response, “I suppose it was when we used to… drink wine and talk about whatever came to our minds.”

 

His answer brought a shockingly giddy smile to Amelia’s face, and she didn’t try to hide it, even letting out a few breathy giggles, “Maybe we should do that again, then.”

 

“You don’t drink anymore.”

 

“Ah, I’m sure one glass or two wouldn’t be so bad”, Amelia pointed out, facing Loki to gauge his reaction. She’d given up alcohol a while back following a few sessions with her therapist, due to the way it had affected how she coped with things like loss and grief. Amelia certainly didn’t miss the nights she’d drank herself to unconsciousness, but the evenings that had often bled into early mornings where she and Loki had shared drinks in her old apartment - she’d missed those interactions, even if it was before she had learnt of Loki’s true identity.

 

She’d had some of the best conversations of her life with the man at her side and a slight buzz running through her veins.

 

“No. You don’t have to do that for me.” Loki stated, adamant and final.

 

“What if I said I wanted to do it for  _ me?”  _ Amelia responded slyly, and it prompted an expression of surprise to befall the god’s face. He slowed to a stop, as did Amelia, and gave her a scrutinising stare as if he was trying to unlock and decipher her mind.

 

“Is that truly what you want? You’re not just saying that because you think it will be fun for me?”

 

Amelia let out a brief laugh, stretching her arms up to try and subdue the slight twinge that had arisen in her lower back -  _ probably the burn of those self-defense lessons  _ \- and said rather jokingly, “Honey, the world don’t revolve around you.” She caught Loki peering down at her stomach as her sweater rode up her waist a little, and quickly lowered her arms again to cover up the strip of bared skin. 

 

Loki brushed off the faux glare she sent his way - there was no real fire in it - and resumed his walking pace, strolling down the path that led to the spot by the lake that Amelia always found to her liking. Amelia scurried to join him, her vastly improved mood urging her to take Loki’s hand firmly in her own.

 

“Does this mean you forgive me for earlier?” Loki asked almost immediately, clasping her hand tightly in return, intertwining his fingers with her own as if to trap her, unwilling to let her go.

 

“I’ll be honest, I was expecting you to pull your hand away. We are in public”, Amelia pointed out, an amused smirk on her lips. Loki was never one of public affection - even hand-holding was something they usually only did in private, so it was truly quite astonishing that he so willingly reciprocated the fond gesture right there in the middle of a busy park.

 

“Well. I have recently come to find that humans are utterly oblivious to everything around them. Therefore, it doesn’t matter”, was Loki’s unbothered reply.

 

Amelia snorted; it was definitely true - even without any sort of disguise, Loki seemed to pass through the streets of Manhattan completely unseen. Nobody seemed to recognise him, at least not when she was with him.

 

“Hm. It’s kinda weird that no one ever recognises you.” Amelia mused.

 

“You didn’t recognise me when we first met.”

 

“Yeah but I’m talking about  _ after  _ you joined the Avengers. You’d think that majestic, long, black hair would draw some attention.”

 

Loki chuckled dryly, “Humans only see what they want to see.”

 

“Well”, Amelia began softly, “I think humans  _ want  _ to see their favourite superheroes walking along the street like it’s totally normal.”

 

Loki’s cool expression grew sardonic and his tone took on a touch of self-mocking, “Yes. Maybe. You might just be completely right, Amelia. But the fact of the matter is -  _ I’m nobody's favourite superhe-”  _

 

The god couldn’t quite finish his sentence as he came to a very abrupt stop, his eyes on the shiny, red balloon that was hovering just inches before his face; he followed the string of it down with his gaze until he found the small hand that was tightly gripping it.

 

A young child stood unmoving in Loki’s path; she couldn’t have been more than seven years old, dressed in blue leggings and a bright pink raincoat, with a somewhat vacant stare on her face. She was staring up at Loki inquisitively, her head tilted all the way back to meet his eyes, and Loki stared back at her with confusion, a spark in his eyes that told Amelia he wasn’t quite sure what to do.

 

“Are you Loki?” The little girl asked very suddenly, her high-pitched voice blunt, and her question straight to the point.

 

A lull of silence, and then Loki responded. “Yes.”

 

The child tilted her head, her blonde pigtails framing her pale face, “Like from the Avengers?”

 

Loki’s face creased with a flicker of irritation, and Amelia subtly nudged him in the side.

 

“Yes. I’m that Loki.”

 

Amelia smiled brightly as she observed the simple back-and-forth between Loki and the wide-eyed child, more than a little amused by the awkward communication.

 

The child’s face lit up with awe, her mouth hanging open to reveal a pretty substantial gap between her two front teeth, and then she murmured a quick “wait there!” before scampering off towards one of the benches at the edge of the path, where her mother -  _ presumably  _ \- was too absorbed in her phone to realise who her daughter had been speaking to.

 

The girl said nothing to her mother, reaching into the woman’s handbag to retrieve something, and then she stumbled back, not once letting go of the red balloon wrapped around her wrist; what surprised Amelia the most was the fact that Loki dutifully stayed put when the little girl said so, instead of speed-walking away before the child could return.

 

The child approached again, and offered something up for Loki to take. “This is for you”, she claimed, her mouth forming a cute little lopsided grin, and Amelia felt tickly butterflies in her stomach when she caught sight of what it was - a little green and yellow beaded bracelet.

 

“What is it?” Loki questioned dumbly, holding out his hand.

 

The girl placed it in his palm. “It’s a friendship bracelet, duh. I made it myself.”

 

Amelia wanted to laugh at how gosh-darned  _ adorable  _ the girl was, but refrained for the fear that either Loki or the child would take offense; so instead, she simply watched as Loki inspected the elasticated piece of plastic-beaded jewellery with a very pacified and outlandishly curious look.

 

“Oh…” Loki murmured, his eyes flickering between the bracelet and the little girl’s beaming face, “...thank you?”

 

“You’re welcome. Thank you for fighting crime. Everyone at school is gonna be real jealous that I met you. Buh-bye”, and with that, the child bounced away like nothing had ever happened.

 

When the girl was out of earshot, Amelia let free the burst of hysterical giggles that had been growing in her lungs, almost collapsing in on herself with how pure of an interaction she had witnessed. Loki didn’t appear bothered by Amelia’s raucous laughter, holding up the beaded bracelet before his eyes to read the subtle lettering engraved into each bead.

 

_ ‘L - O - K - I’,  _ was written on one side, and  _ ‘E - R - I - N’,  _ was inscribed on the other.

 

“Oh my god!” Amelia wheezed, “Erin and Loki, best friends forever!”

 

_ “Ssshhhut _ up”, Loki grumbled, sliding the plastic jewellery into his coat pocket, the shock on his face melting away into forced indifference.

 

“What were you saying about being nobody’s favourite superhero?” Amelia enquired, wiping the tears from her eyes.

 

“So I have  _ one  _ fan. Big deal.”

 

“Nah, you have at least  _ two _ fans. Remember that girl you saved all those months back from a kidnapping? What was her name? Ruth?”

 

“Rio”, Loki corrected.

 

_ “Rio”,  _ Amelia squealed, “-and I bet you have more fans too!”

 

“Are they all going to be so tiny?” Loki drawled, the light dusting of pink on his cheeks barely noticeable - but noticeable enough for Amelia.

 

Amelia’s almost rapturous smile was evident of her joy, and she looked at him, a little more composed now that she had giggled all of the butterflies out of her stomach, briefly pensive and lost in thought. “You’re good with kids, you know.”

 

Loki shook his head, scoffing at the remark, but he couldn’t deny or try to hide the small hint of satisfaction on his handsome face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you all enjoyed this chapter!! Please let me know! Writing that bit at the end was so frigging cute UGH! :')


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sincerely apologise that this took a bit longer than usual. Lets just say I've had an awful few weeks at work and it was a mix of not being able to find the time, and just being too physically/mentally exhausted to write. This chapter is just shy of 10k words, which is the longest since chapter 1, so I hope you all enjoy it and appreciate its length <3 :)

The week following the encounter with the child in Central Park, Amelia spent a lot of time deep in contemplation. The core of her thoughts was occupied by Loki and his slow progression away from the darkness and towards the light; his experience facing Thanos had dragged him down, amplifying all the looming fears and unfair treatments he had received throughout his entire life, and it had fuelled the anger and resentment in his mind, pushing him to lash out and build up boundaries around himself.

 

But things were looking up now.

 

Amelia still had yet to find out exactly what Loki had seen and what had plagued him in those grim weeks he spent unconscious in the infirmary bed; his nightmares had not yet let up entirely, but they were becoming more infrequent as time went on, and Amelia could only interpret it as something  _ good. _

 

It had been a long time since Loki’s mood had reflected something even  _ close  _ to contentment, but after the transient meeting with Erin, the exuberant and extroverted little girl, Amelia had spied the subtle curl of Loki’s lips. He’d been  _ delighted  _ at the young girl’s praise.

 

Amelia endeavoured not to draw attention to it in any way, because she knew that pointing it out would likely wipe the smile from Loki’s face in an instant, and she really didn’t want to put a damper on the god’s first good mood in  _ forever. _ Loki had said nothing either, enveloped in a placid silence, perhaps mulling over the satisfaction he felt, and wondering what he could do to chase the sensation.

 

The pep in his step never faltered as they’d made their way back to the tower that late afternoon, and the feeling of normality, however fleeting, had set in the moment Amelia had declared she was going to take a nap, and Loki had picked up a novel, situated himself in the window alcove of their room, and began reading to himself while she drifted into a light doze, lulled with joy at the sight of that small smile on Loki’s face.

 

By Tuesday of the next week, a touch of good news came to light. The thief responsible for waving a gun around and stealing Amelia’s handbag, along with a handful of cash from the small store register, had been apprehended.

 

The late-night receptionist who worked in the Tower, Janine, had received the call from the police, informing her that the suspect had been arrested, and what remained of Amelia’s belongings were seized and ready to be picked up.

 

Her purse had been stripped clean, obviously, but Amelia had been sharp enough to cancel her cards almost immediately after the incident, so it was just a few cash notes and coins that were truly missing; her phone was miraculously still there - if the thief had been planning to resell it, he hadn’t been quick enough, and with a few minutes of charging, Amelia was able to find that the device was all in working order.

 

But more importantly, Amelia was just ecstatic that the guy had been caught.

 

She made a noise of restrained excitement, which sounded very much like a strangled squeal, as she rushed out from the elevator and into the hall upon returning from picking up her previously stolen items from Janine in the foyer -  _ the receptionist had very nicely sent for them to be retrieved from the precinct _ \- and practically skipped her way to the main lounge where she discovered all of the Avengers to be enjoying some down-time, except for Loki.

 

They were all present, dotted around the living space all doing their own thing - it made the air feel oddly homey when everyone was gathered in one room together. In a way, the Avengers were a family, and Amelia was always happy to be reminded that she was a part of it, especially when she caught everyone acting so  _ normal  _ \- like they weren’t a gang of crime-fighting, planet-protecting superheroes.

 

Banner was, for a change, not caught up in his work. Instead of concentrating on the digits and data on the screen of one of his digital devices, he was in the middle of playing a game of pool at the billiard table with Clint, while Thor was hovering nearby - no doubt trying to figure out the rules and objective of the activity.

 

Natasha had her feet propped up on the coffee table, a mug filled with a steaming hot beverage cupped in her hands as she sipped from it tentatively, and Steve was sat on the adjacent couch, watching a show on netflix, it appeared.

 

Tony was perched on a stool in the kitchenette, tentatively nursing a small glass of whiskey.

 

“They caught him!” Amelia exclaimed to the room, before realising that without context, nobody would likely understand what she was going on about, “The guy that held me at gunpoint - he’s been arrested and I’ve got my things back! Well, most of my things”, she clarified, holding up the scuffed handbag in her grip.

 

Tony blinked, “Holy shit, that’s great news, Bubbles.”

 

“They identified him from those grainy CCTV images?” Bruce spoke up, a mild smile on his lips.

 

Thor perked up at the news, a grin breaking out on his features.

 

“You bet they did”, Amelia responded proudly. If it hadn’t been for her little ruse to get the thief to show his face, the criminal may have gotten away with his misdemeanour; Amelia felt relatively self-satisfied knowing the her actions had helped the police locate their suspect. “Has anyone seen Loki? I gotta tell him!” 

 

The group were unaware of his whereabouts given that they all looked around with vague expressions before shrugging their shoulders, and Amelia pouted. She had been with Loki earlier in the day, but he had quietly left the bedroom at one point and not returned - Amelia had assumed he would be back within minutes given he hadn’t specified where he was going.

 

When she’d been called down to the foyer, she had fully expected to find him in the living quarters on her way back up.

 

“Perhaps he’s in the training room”, Steve spoke up after the extended silence.

 

“No, I just came from there a little while ago. It was empty after I left”, said Clint, with just a cursory glance before his eyes were back on the pool table.

 

“I haven’t seen him all day, come to think of it”, Thor looked thoughtful, but ultimately shook his head apologetically.

 

Amelia scratched her head in a bid to try and figure out where the God of Mischief might have gone. He didn’t have any reason to leave the building, as far as she knew, which left very few places from him to be hiding.

 

_ Oh,  _ she thought. There was always one place, secluded and peaceful, that Loki would disappear to whenever the need arose.

 

“It’s okay”, Amelia smiled, “I think I might know where he’s gone.” As she turned to leave, Tony called out to her.

 

“Hey, kid. Uh, I was gonna get some food and drinks out in a while. If you want to find Loki and bring him back, we can all - I dunno - celebrate the fact that your thief got caught?” The CEO rose his eyebrows expectantly, his face inquisitive and oddly hopeful.

 

“Like a party?” Amelia asked, a flutter of amusement rippling through her.

 

“Sure, why not?” Tony attempted to seem indifferent about it, but Amelia could tell he  _ wanted  _ the whole gang to have a sit down and just relax together; it seemed he had problems expressing this desire, and Amelia didn’t blame him. Comparatively, Amelia had not been living in the Tower long, but she knew that it was highly irregular that they all allowed themselves the free time to actually unwind.

 

“Alright”, Amelia responded, “Yeah, I’m in. I’ll convince Loki”, she nodded her head, feeling confident that Loki had improved enough to be willing to spend time around the others in the group.

 

As she left the room, however, she hardly had to make an effort to hear Clint mutter something along the lines of  _ ‘Come on Stark, why’d you invite him?’  _ and she paused in step, a sigh leaving her lips; Barton seemed the least amicable towards Loki - which wasn’t particularly saying a lot, given that both Steve and Natasha didn’t appear be fond of the god’s presence either - but the other two acknowledged his existence in the tower, even speaking a word to him on occasion. Clint liked to pretend Loki did not exist, but he wouldn’t be able to keep that up forever.

 

“Give him a chance, Barton”, Thor’s voice rumbled quietly down the hallway, “He’s funnier when he’s drunk, trust me, and I’ve got a bottle of Asgardian wine that I’m sure he’ll appreciate.”

 

Amelia stifled a snort. She was warmed at the sound of Thor defending his brother; she wasn’t sure Loki would be so amenable to imbibe alcohol in front of the entire group, as she suspected getting drunk was the last thing he’d want to do in the presence of people who could  _ absolutely  _ decide to hold it against him.

 

She’d happily see where the night took them, though.

 

Resuming her pace, she walked steadily towards the elevator that would take her to the floor of the helipad garden. She was somewhat excited to inform Loki that the armed thief had been caught, and she hoped he too would be pleased to hear the news - though there was a part of her that expected him to become grumpy at being reminded of the day she had  _ needlessly put herself in danger,  _ as he would describe it.

 

Nevertheless, she practically skipped her way down the grey corridor, rode the lift up, and found herself eventually at the door to the garden. She pushed it open and shivered at the gust of cool air that assaulted her, and pulled her jacket tighter around herself as she stepped out into the mid-evening chill.

 

The garden looked no better than it had the last time she’d been out here, except the waterlogged decking had now dried out, though the stains of soil still marred it, making it look ugly and neglected. Dead stray leaves and petals littered the floor, but the broken pottery had been cleared, and Loki sat on the wicker bench, staring out over the skyline of Manhattan, quite still, and seemingly lost in thought.

 

A mischievous little idea burrowed its way into Amelia’s head, and she smiled impishly, leaning into a slight crouch as she approached Loki on her tiptoes, ready to pounce like a cat sneaking towards its prey. She reached over the flower bed that surrounded the back of the bench, and quickly brought her hands down on Loki’s shoulders.

 

_ “BOO!”  _ Amelia exclaimed in the same instance, but her hands did not come in contact with the man - instead, her hands sunk through him, and he disappeared in a flash of green light, causing Amelia to stumble forwards with a confused yelp. She caught herself before she could tumble over the back of the bench, and blinked, staring at the space Loki had occupied just moments ago.

 

“Wha-?” She muttered dumbly, before turning to look over her shoulder, only to be greeted with Loki, arms crossed over his chest, his lips pursed in what appeared to be disapproval.

 

“Boo.” The word left his mouth in a very monotonous tone, but Amelia had already jumped several feet in the air from the unexpected sight of him alone, an incoherent squeak of surprise falling from her lips.

 

Amelia slumped slightly, still leaning over the flower bed, “Don’t scare me like that!” Her voice was filled with childish indignation, and Loki’s lips curled in amusement, one eyebrow quirking up in an assessing gaze.

 

“You were trying to scare  _ me”, _ Loki stated, “-and not in a very well thought-out way, I might add.” At the sight of Amelia’s pouty lips, Loki continued, “You need to work on silencing your movements. I heard you coming before you even stepped outside.”

 

“Alright, alright. We can’t all be as graceful on our feet as  _ you.  _ And just know that you only have a good sense of hearing because of your ridiculously big ears”, Amelia retorted matter-of-factly, an overly smug smirk on her face as she stood up straight and raised her chin.

 

“My ears are not ridiculously big.”

 

“Oh, they are. They’re very big.”

 

“They are not”, Loki affirmed, “Your ears are just too small.”

 

Amelia couldn’t help but giggle, shaking her head at his playful retaliation; she was oddly thankful for it, because it paralleled the kind of harmless banter they once engaged in - the kind that brought her subtle joy. Her thoughts moved quickly to a more curious topic.

 

“What were you doing up here alone?” 

 

Loki shrugged in response, looking out over the nightlife of Manhattan, “This city looks better after the sun has set”, he murmured, “and it’s peaceful up here.”

 

Amelia cocked her head at him, eyes narrowing in scrutiny; she wondered if that’s all it was, if Loki just wanted to enjoy some time alone, or if there had been any significance to his chosen location with which to escape to.

 

“Anyway, what’s that?” Loki motioned to her handbag with a quick movement of his head, and Amelia’s train of thought diverted again.

 

With a wildly satisfied smile, Amelia stated, “It’s my handbag. You know - the one that got stolen the other week?”

 

Loki’s gaze burned into the bag for a few moments, “They caught him, then?” His voice was low with underlying displeasure, and Amelia couldn’t quite identify what his anger was in relation to - she thought, at the very least, that Loki would be pleased that the man had been caught.

 

“Yeah? He’s gonna be found guilty and get sent to prison. That’s a  _ good _ thing, you know.”

 

Loki gave a huff, “Hardly a fitting punishment for the crime he committed.”

 

“Oh”, said Amelia, a spark of understanding shimmering in her eyes, “I see. You’re grumpy because you didn’t get to serve him some justice yourself, huh?”

 

“I’m  _ not  _ grumpy”, Loki rolled his eyes, “Being locked up is not a sufficient penalty.”

 

“Really? I think it is. Why’d you say that?”

 

Loki met her gaze, his eyes expressing more than his face - it was dark out, but the reflection of lunar light and distant building lights were prominent in his stare. His eyelashes fluttered, he pursed his lips, and then Amelia was pulled close to him with his hand on her waist - close enough that she could feel the radiating warmth of his body.

 

“Because anybody who dares to cause you distress should be forced to deal with  _ me.”  _

 

His words sparked ease and comfort within her, and Amelia relaxed into his embrace, which prompted him to further tighten his hold around her, firm and secure. She tucked her head under his chin, a content smile on her face, and breathed in the faint but familiar smell of peppermint that he always seemed to exude.

 

The god appeared to be in a good mood, and Amelia couldn’t think of a better moment to extend Tony’s invitation than right now. “Hey, Loki”, she began softly, “Tony and everyone else are having a little party tonight… we’re invited…”

 

“No.”

 

And just like that, the moment was over. Loki pulled away, a vexed little curl to his lip as he gave Amelia a look as if to say  _ ‘are you serious?’ _

 

_ “Please,  _ Loki. It’ll be fun!” Amelia pressed her hands together in the form of a beg, “There’ll be food and- and we can drink wine! You were saying the other day that you missed having a drink with me-”

 

“With  _ you,  _ yes. I have no desire to sit and put up with the company of the  _ Avengers,  _ that is not what I wanted when I said that”, he was unshakeable in his statement, his voice emanating nothing but disdain at the thought of partaking in wine and conversation with the others.

 

“But, Loki, I think it would be a good chance to show them that you’re not who they think you are”, Amelia began, a tinge of desperation seeping into her plea. Loki turned his back to her, looking back out over the illuminated skyline, arms crossed over his chest in irritation, “Please. If you don’t make an effort to show them, then they’ll never see you the way I do-”

 

“I don’t  _ want _ or  _ need _ their approval. I don’t care what they think, Amelia. None of them want me there and I don’t want to be there, so why should I?” Amelia could tell Loki was trying to keep the annoyance out of his grousing in an attempt to sound phlegmatic, but it was hardly working.

 

“I want you there!” Amelia protested, “Thor and Tony want you there too!”

 

“I highly doubt Stark wants me there”, Loki shook his head.

 

“Then why would he  _ invite  _ you?”

 

“To make  _ you  _ happy, obviously”, Loki declared, as if it was clearly evident, and in response to Amelia’s incoherent noise of half-confusion and half-objection, Loki continued to say, “He knows purposely excluding me would upset you. I don’t know why you would think that any of them care about my feelings in any way.”

 

Amelia bit her lip, her throat stinging with empathy, “But… Tony is your friend- and so is Bruce-”

 

“No”, Loki looked back to her, shaking his head, a look of genuine surprise on his face, “They are not. They hate me for the things I’ve done”, his lips curled in sardonic amusement, “You realise that the only reason I ever stayed here in the first place is because they didn’t trust me to wander out of sight, right?”

 

Amelia couldn’t find any humour in his bleak declaration; her heart sunk in his chest when she realised that he actually believed the words coming out of his mouth.  _ Was this despondent outlook a result of the torment Thanos had put him through, or had Loki always felt this way? _

 

“If you want to go to this party, then go.” Loki told her, “But do not expect me to subject myself to their fellowship. I do not fit in with them.” With that, he rounded the bench, sitting in the space his illusion had previously occupied.

 

Amelia swallowed tightly.

 

She knew everything Loki had just told her was not true. Tony and Bruce both considered Loki a friend, and a part of their group, no matter how much Loki chose not to see it, and Thor cared about his brother, and enjoyed his company. Perhaps it was no lie that Natasha, Clint and Steve distrusted him, but that was never going to change unless Loki attempted to prove them wrong.

 

But how was she supposed to convince Loki to  _ make  _ that endeavour?

 

With a sigh, Amelia joined Loki on the bench, sitting down silently to follow his gaze, staring at the distant skyscrapers of Manhattan.

 

“You’re wrong, Loki.” She breathed, “You  _ are _ one of them. I can prove it.”

 

Loki look skeptical and exasperated,  _ “Really?”  _

 

Amelia smiled weakly, and then reached confidently into Loki’s coat pocket, plucking the contents out with nimble fingers, and holding up the friendship bracelet he had received from the child in Central Park. Loki rolled his eyes at the sight, averting his gaze from the piece of plastic jewellery.

 

“This bracelet says it all. You’re not just a tool for the Avengers to use on missions. You  _ are _ an Avenger, and you’ve saved people. Erin looks up to you, and so do many others.”

 

She pried open Loki’s fist and placed the bracelet in his palm. Loki eyed it, still shaking his head in dubiety as he rolled the beads with his fingers, so Amelia cupped his face with her hands, a look of imploration taking shape in her features.

 

Loki’s eyes found her’s. A significant stare. Amelia drew her thumbs over his eyebrows in the form of a gentle caress, affectionate and soft, as her fingers lightly tickled the skin below his ears.

 

“Listen”, Amelia whispered, “If you come join this little  _ soirée _ and everything goes sour, I promise I won’t ever make you attend another party as long as I live.”

 

Loki’s eyes fell shut as she cradled his head, and he sighed, “Mmmm. No.”

 

Amelia was quickly running out of ideas, but one little plan came to mind. A nifty proposal that Loki could never say no to.

 

“If you join us, I’ll cook you dinner every night for a week.”

 

She knew very well that Loki loved her cooking too much to refuse. He preferred it over anything,  _ even pizza,  _ and it had been so long since she’d had the time and patience to make up a meal, especially when she worked later shifts and there was a perfectly good chef employed within the Tower. It always just seemed easier to relax in the evenings, and let someone else cook her meal.

 

As expected, Loki perked up. His eyes widened ever so slightly and his eyebrows rose; he licked his lips subconsciously as he no doubt imagined the tastes he would be gifted over the next seven days. It filled Amelia with pride to know that she could wrap Loki around her little finger just at the promise of home-cooked food.

 

“Two weeks.” Loki revised.  _ Ever the negotiator. _

 

“Fine. Two weeks. Do we have a deal?” Amelia enquired, a subtle wave of victory budding within.

 

Loki blinked, his eyes falling slightly to her mouth, and Amelia felt her breath catch in her throat, waiting for the god to lean forwards and capture her mouth. He hesitated, though Amelia could see the oscillation of thoughts in his eyes, and ultimately turned his head away, pulling her hands gently from his face; Amelia frowned with tenuous disappointment, but quickly amended her expression so that the god could not pick up on it.

 

His next words, at the very least, made Amelia feel a little triumphant.

 

“Fine”, he murmured, “But I’m not going to  _ like _ it.”

 

* * *

 

The tension was thick.

 

It probably wasn’t the kind of party Tony had expected when he’d suggested it. Conversations had run dry before they’d even had time to begin, and an uncomfortable silence had fallen, creating one of the most awkward atmospheres Amelia had ever had the displeasure of finding herself in.

 

Clearly, nobody knew what to say. Loki sat stiffly by Amelia’s side, swirling his glass of Asgardian wine idly in his hand, blatantly ignoring the group while the others all shifted in their seats on occasion, eyes flicking to each others faces in what seemed to be a desperate plea for someone to dissolve the rigidity of the situation.

 

Amelia hoped the alcohol would eventually set in and everyone would become a little bit more talkative; Tony had been vaguely surprised when she’d requested a glass of white wine, knowing full well that she’d turned away from alcohol a while ago, but at her insistence, he had retrieved what she asked for. Tony wasn’t entirely aware of issues she had undergone with alcohol in the past, but Amelia had at the very least confided that it  _ had _ been a problem, and the CEO billionaire had developed somewhat avuncular concerns when it came to her troubles.

 

Tony liked to act satirical and emotionally distant, but he was very caring when it came down to it, and Amelia loved him for it.

 

“A horse walks into a bar”, Tony suddenly speaks up, drawing the attention of everybody present, “Bartender says ‘ _ why the long face?’  _ and the horse responds  _ ‘my wife just passed away.’”  _

 

He paused to let the dour joke sink in, but instead of a chuckle, it only seemed to invoke bewildered looks, except in the case of Amelia who sniffed with amusement and shook her head.

 

“An anti-joke? Really?” 

 

“Hey, I needed to break the ice somehow”, Tony remarked defensively, “You all need to lighten up and relax. Have something to eat”, he motioned the spread of food on the table. “Thor, I’m surprised you haven’t already launched into one of your stories about how you once fought and defeated ten trolls in one swing of your hammer, or whatever.”

 

“Hah! I’ll have you know I’ve defeated far more than ten in one swing! Try twenty”, Thor countered proudly, sticking up his chin smugly.

 

“There is it”, Tony murmured under his breath, but it was drowned out by the sound of Thor instigating one of his victorious tales.

 

“Large, nasty creatures, they are. We were once on a hunt - Loki and I - and we happened across a cave which housed a congregation of them.” Thor cast a glance at Loki, who rolled his eyes and sipped at his wine, “They weren’t happy to see us. Thought we were there to steal their valuable cache of weapons and treasures, and they did not hesitate to attack us, even as my brother tried to explain that we had discovered them by accident and did not intend to start a conflict.”

 

“I take it you didn’t settle the incident without violence?” asked Steve.

 

Thor merely chuckled knowingly, before reaching forward to pluck a chip from the bowl on the table. It crunched loudly in his mouth, and he looked pointedly towards Loki, as if urging him to continue the story.

 

Despite the risk of the group falling into another unpleasant bout of silence, Loki acted as though he did not notice his brother’s fixed look. Amelia was not so willing to let the conversation die, however.

 

“What happened next, Loki?” Amelia pressed, nudging his arm slightly, and the god gave her a look that told her he really would rather not get into it, but she simply continued to smile, anticipating of his response.

 

Loki sighed subtly. “Cave trolls are particularly dim. There was no conferring with them, regardless of my attempts”, he looked back to Thor with a faint glare, “We were outnumbered by far. There were at least thirty of them, and only the two of us, so we decided it was best to make a tactical retreat.”

 

Amelia blinked. “What?” She had expected a tale of a magic, glory and triumph.

 

“That’s the  _ tough guy  _ way of saying we ran away”, Thor clarified, amusement shining in his clashing eyes.

 

“You  _ just said  _ a few moments ago that you took out twenty of them in one swing!” Steve readily called out the God of Thunder incredulously.

 

“That was a  _ different time!  _ This story was from a long, long time ago. We were simply children! I did not yet have my hammer, and Loki’s skills in magic were, ah,  _ lacking,  _ shall we say”, Thor spoke with impish intent, clearly trying to rile Loki up.

 

The God of Mischief shot his brother a warning look and quietly simmered, “and you could barely even hold a sword.”

 

“Ehh, lets not over-exaggerate my inexperience…” Thor spoke quickly with a shrug, rubbing the back of his neck as his mouth pulled into an embarrassed smile, “I was very good at weilding a sword! Better than you, at least.”

 

“I think not.”

 

Amelia bit her lip to hide her smile at the sight of the brothers bickering; it was always entertaining to watch them act just like regular siblings, and it managed to curb some of the tension in the room, because the others slowly seemed to become a little more comfortable as Thor relayed a few other stories of his and Loki’s childhood. The stories from the God of Thunder mostly revolved around his epic fights with insidious enemies, with Loki throwing in a few comments about how Thor was blatantly over-glorifying everything, and Natasha seemed to find it just as humorous as Amelia did, hiding her thin smile behind her glass of vodka and lemonade.

 

Bruce and Clint remained relatively quiet the whole time, owing the the fact that Bruce was quiet by nature, and Clint was still not happy about Loki being present - not that Amelia let this bother her. She kept looking back to Loki, smiling encouragingly and making sure he was in high spirits.

 

“Do you want another glass of wine?” Amelia enquired softly when she noticed the volume of Loki’s glass had gotten quite low. The god nodded wordlessly and Amelia jumped up to retrieve the bottle closer to Thor, but was quickly stopped by the God of Thunder, who plucked it up and held it out of reach as she went to grab it.

 

“Sorry Amelia, but I would not allow a mortal to drink this wine”, he spoke good-naturedly, “It is far too strong for even the most resilient of humans.”

 

“Oh, trust me”, Amelia began sarcastically, “I know full well not to drink this stuff. It’s  _ gross.  _ I was just gonna pour some more for Loki.” She held out her hand expectantly.

 

Thor blinked. “You’ve tried this?” He looked at the bottle of Asgardian wine in his hand and then looked back to Loki, “You let her have some of this?”

 

“Uhm, I’m a big girl who can make decisions for herself”, Amelia remarked defensively, “I mean, it was a bad decision, but that’s not the point. Besides, I only had a sip.”

 

_ “Loki”,  _ Thor admonished, “I can’t  _ believe  _ you offered her this-”

 

“I  _ didn’t  _ offer it, actually”, Loki interpolated, “She insisted on trying it despite my attempts to convince her otherwise.”

 

“And it was  _ disgusting”,  _ Amelia grumbled, “Let’s stop talking like I’m not standing right here, yeah?”

 

At Amelia’s gentle rebuke, Thor sheepishly handed over the bottle, his eyes wide with incredulity, “I’m surprised you’re still standing.” He seemed vaguely impressed, so much so that Amelia let out a snort and shook her head.

 

Loki held up his glass, allowing Amelia to pour the Asgardian wine easily into the vessel, “It really was only the tiniest sip. I almost spat it out. So gross”, she smiled teasingly as Loki cocked an eyebrow, “How can you stomach this stuff?”

 

“Our taste buds are superior to yours?” Loki retorted plainly and Amelia gave him a playfully weary look in response. 

 

The talk of Amelia’s experience with Asgardian wine jogged her memory of the night in question; they’d talked for hours about books, namely the book series about a certain young wizard, and then finished the night swaying to music. Waltzing, specifically. A wistful sigh escaped Amelia’s throat - it had been a while since they’d done something like that again.

 

“The night I tried that wine - that was the night we danced together for the first time. Do you remember?” Amelia remarked, unable to help the smile that grew on her face.

 

Loki paused, his glass poised before his mouth, and he pursed his lips briefly before continuing to take a sip. “Yes. Of course I remember.”

 

“Loki dancing? Now I’ve heard everything.” Steve spoke up from the adjacent sofa, “That’s not something I can picture in my mind”, he looked vaguely amused.

 

“Were you drunk?” Bruce enquired to Loki, scratching his face to try and conceal the smirk that was so very obvious.

 

“No.”

 

Amelia quirked an eyebrow, “Eh, you were kinda drunk, Loki.”

 

“I was  _ not.  _ You were drunk, I was perfectly sober.”

 

He had definitely been quite tipsy, at the least; Amelia remembered that night very vividly - it wasn’t something she would ever easily forget, as it was a significant memory that struck her as the day her feelings for Loki went from an infatuation to something stronger and more everlasting.

 

“If he’d drank more than a third of the bottle of Asgardian wine, then he was definitely on his way to drunkenness”, Thor supplied helpfully with a low chuckle.

 

“He’d drank almost the entire bottle!” Amelia exclaimed.

 

“Oh, he was definitely drunk, then.”

 

“Enough.” Loki’s face was pulled into a frown, pinning Amelia with a discontent look; it was a warning, a wordless way of telling her that should everyone continue to taunt him, he would do exactly what she didn’t want him to do and leave at once.

 

Amelia swallowed her mirth and cleared her throat, making herself comfy again in the seat beside Loki, and quickly searched her mind to devise a topic that Loki would have no issues involving himself with.

 

“Ooh, let’s talk about Harry Potter!” Amelia declared suddenly, a bright smile on her face, which slowly melted into that of an embarrassed pout when she received nothing but bemused stares from everybody else present. “Come on.  _ Everyone _ loves the Harry Potter series.”

 

“Yeah, I’ve never read it.” Natasha explained blankly.

 

“Me neither.” Bruce concurred.

 

“What? Not even watched the movies?” Amelia was initially surprised, but she supposed it was a little far-fetched to assume the group of hardworking superheroes - who were often busy spending their time saving the world - had all watched or read her favourite fictional series.

 

“What is this  _ Harry Potter  _ you speak of?” Thor enquired, blinking with uninformed curiosity.

 

“It’s about this boy, Harry Potter, who finds out he can do magic, so he goes to a school for young witches and wizards, and there’s an evil dark lord trying to take over the wizarding world. Harry must stop him”, Steve spoke up. His lips curled up slightly at the sight of everyone turning to him with surprise, “It’s a piece of media everyone urged me to read when I woke up in this century. Although, I haven’t gotten round to reading the last two books yet, so  _ no spoilers, please.” _

 

Amelia smiled pleasantly and nodded in promise, then caught the way Loki’s mouth coiled into a sly smirk out of the corner of her eye.

 

_ “Snape kills-”  _ Amelia slapped her hand over Loki’s mouth to ensure he did not ruin one of the major events of the sixth book, her face prickling with a cautionary glare, and she felt Loki’s smile widen beneath her palm, hilarity twinkling in her eyes.

 

“You do  _ not  _ spoil Harry Potter. That is the unspoken rule of life”, she told him, before lowering her voice to what she believed to be threatening, “plus, if you even think of spoiling anything, our deal is off and I won’t be cooking you a meal at all. So  _ shh.” _

 

The amused huff of air he breathed out tickled Amelia’s fingers, and she pulled away when she was assured that he understood her message loud and clear; turning her attention back to the rest of the group, she smiled innocently at their pointed looks.

 

“Tony, what about you? You’ve read them, right?”

 

“Afraid not, kid. It’s not quite my thing”, Tony revealed, “I hope that’s not a crushing disappointment for you, Bubbles.”

 

Amelia laughed, shaking her head, “Nah, you’re a busy man. It’s understandable”, she looked tentatively to Clint, who had remained relatively quiet the entire time, nibbling on a bowl of pretzel bites.

 

“I’ve read them all”, the reticent archer announced when he noticed Amelia’s gaze on him, which seemed to astonish a handful of the group’s members.

 

“You’ve read them all?” Steve parroted.

 

“I have kids,  _ of course  _ I’ve read them”, Clint spoke as though it was obvious, but Amelia hadn’t even known the man was a father. She didn’t really see him around the tower all that much most days, and the realisation made it clear why that must have been - he likely moved back and forth between the tower and his family home to spend time with his children.

 

It painted him in a new light.

 

“I was thinking”, Amelia began, “Why don’t we all discuss which Hogwarts houses we’d be in?” Her face burned red almost immediately as she realised how childish her request probably sounded to the group - they were all older and far more mature than she was, that much was evident, but the truth of it really only hit her in that moment. No wonder they all called her  _ kid. _

 

“I think some of us are very easy to place”, Steve responded matter-of-factly, and Amelia was entirely grateful that he was willing to entertain her request, “Thor is a Gryffindor, Stark and Banner are Ravenclaw-”

 

“I disagree”, Clint contested immediately, “Stark is a Slytherin, you can’t change my mind.”

 

Steve adopted a look of consideration, shrugging slightly, “Okay, yes, I suppose to an extent. He’s a toss-up of both.”

 

“I wish I knew the implications of this discussion”, Tony mumbled, and Amelia giggled.

 

“Okay, for those who don’t know, the most basic descriptions of the four houses are: Gryffindor are brave, adventurous, daring and chivalrous. Ravenclaw are wise, intelligent and creative. Hufflepuff are hardworking, patient and loyal, and Slytherin are cunning, prideful, resourceful and ambitious.” Amelia helpfully supplied to those who were out of the loop.

 

“Oh, well in that case, I’m flattered”, Tony seemed awfully chipper at the revelation.

 

“Yeah, but Slytherins are also generally a bunch of assholes”, Clint continued to say, and Tony made a face.

 

“As per the traits Amelia has described, I would also categorise Clint as a Slytherin”, Thor spoke up, an impish smile on his face, and Clint rolled his eyes subtly.

 

“I took the test,  _ actually.  _ I’m a Ravenclaw.” The archer proclaimed.

 

“The test!” Amelia squeaked, “I want Loki to take the test! Tony, pass me your tablet, please!” She wiggled her fingers in Tony’s direction until the CEO shifted and handed her the digital pad that was on the coffee stand to his left.

 

“There’s a test?” Loki quirked an eyebrow, “Is that necessary? I think it’s clear what house I would be sorted into.”

 

“The house of assholes.” Clint stated under his breath, drawing a fleeting glare from the God of Mischief.

 

“Not all Slytherins are bad”, Amelia argued, “Case and point, I would say Natasha belonged in Slytherin, and she’s not bad.” Despite being heavily invested in locating the house-sorting website on Tony’s tablet, Amelia caught the way Natasha raised her glass and tilted her head in appreciation at the casual praise.

 

“One exception, then.” Clint mumbled.

 

“What about me? I’m a Gryffindor, right?” Steve inquired, a hint of uncertainty underlying his words.

 

Amelia paused, puckering her lips in thought, “I’d say you have some Hufflepuff characteristics, from what I know about you - fair play and dedication. More so than Gryffindor, I think.” The Captain contemplated her brief and simple analysis for a moment, and then shrugged, nodding in acceptance of his allocated house.

 

The webpage finally loaded and Amelia quickly created a new account with which to assign Loki a Hogwarts house. “Alright”, she began, “I’m gonna ask you these questions, and you need to answer them honestly, okay? Don’t just answer what you think will get you the house you want, cause then there’s no point.”

 

Loki huffed, “As I said before, there’s no need for me to take this test. I would clearly be placed in Slytherin, do you disagree?”

 

“Well,  _ no,  _ not exactly. I just think you have some Ravenclaw in you”, she smiled virtuously, and the god hummed, deliberating.

 

“This is a waste of time, but fine. Proceed.”

 

“Alright, question one. Moon or stars?”

 

Loki’s expression was deadpan, “How does a question like that help dictate which house I am affiliated with?”

 

“Just answer it, Loki.”

 

“Stars.”

 

The questions proceeded in a similar fashion, with Loki disputing the ingenuity of the quiz before answering at Amelia’s insistence regardless.  _ Dawn or Dusk?  _ Dusk.  _ Forest or River?  _ River.  _ Heads or Tails?  _ Heads. And then came the more complicated questions.

 

“A muggle confronts you and says that they are sure you are a wizard. What do you do-”

 

“Kill them.”

 

“Loki, that’s not one of the options.”

 

“What option is closest to killing them?”

 

Amelia frowned, staring up at Loki with a sulking stare from below her brow, “Stop messing around and take this seriously”, she implored, showing him the list of answers available, “Pick one of these.”

 

The God of Mischief sighed, casting a glance at the others gathered in the living space - they all looked faintly amused, but pretended they weren’t as interested as they were. He looked over the options he was given and scrunched his nose at how unlethal they all were, “Ugh, I’d… tell them I am, and threaten to jinx them.”

 

“Okie”, Amelia squeaked happily, selecting the answer and pressing the continue button. “Which of the following magical creatures would you like to study the most?”

 

Loki read over the potential answers until one caught his eye and he quirked an eyebrow, glancing over at Amelia who held a similarly waggish look on her face. “Vampires”, he answered, and Amelia snorted.

 

“Naturally, you’d want to know all about your own kind.”

 

* * *

 

The jocular smile on Amelia’s face was quite adorable as she murmured her quip; it had been a long time since she’d likened him to a vampire, but the jest still lit a fire in his chest that provided a merry warmth. He couldn’t look away from the sweet little dimples either sides of Amelia’s cheeks.

 

“Which would you rather be?”

 

“Hm?” Loki blinked a few times fast.

 

“It’s the next question. Would you rather be trusted, liked, imitated, praised, envied, or feared?”

 

“Feared, obviously.”

 

“Oh,  _ obviously”,  _ Amelia tried to copy his accent, but only ended up failing miserably, “Look at me, I’m Loki, and I want everyone to  _ fear meeeee.”  _ The attempted imitation was butchered by her lack of skill in mimicry.

 

“Your efforts to mock me are absurd, mortal.”

 

“I think you secretly would like to be praised”, Amelia declared, a knowing smile on her face.

 

“Well you think wrong.”

 

The complacent little grin on Amelia’s face still remained as she input his given answer, tilting the tablet screen away from him when she hit the button that would reveal the house Loki would be placed in, based upon the chosen options.

 

Amelia peered at the screen, her eyebrows raised, jaw hanging open, and she looked up at Loki with a wide gaze, “It says you’re in Hufflepuff!”

 

“No, it doesn’t”, Loki confidently contended, “Perhaps you’ve forgotten how bad a liar you are, darling?”

 

Amelia nibbled her lip, “Alright, it says you’re a Slytherin.  _ Happy?” _

 

“Yes.”

 

“Okay, now it’s my turn to take the test.”

 

Loki plucked the tablet from her hands, ignoring the little noise of dismay that escaped her mouth, “A waste of time. We already know what house you’re in. Hufflepuff.”

 

“Uh, no way, I’m a Gryffindor!” She claimed, and Loki almost couldn’t restrain the laugh that threatened to burst out of his throat - he kept himself contained, shaking his head in disagreement.

 

“Amelia. Patient and Loyal? You are a Hufflepuff.”

 

It was obvious, if only she would give it a moment’s thought.

 

She was brave, yes, but not strikingly so; while she only bore minimal traits from the other houses, the characteristics of Hufflepuff were so evidently contained within her being, so salient and crucial. Amelia was  _ hard-working.  _ She pushed herself to get out of bed and head to work five days a week, even if she felt sleepy and exhausted, because she valued that quality of dedication. 

 

She was patient up to the hilt, so utterly tolerant of  _ everybody,  _ but mostly him. She put up with so much, and was entirely undeserving of the pain he had inflicted upon her when he’d been so far gone from his mind. She always remained even-tempered and understanding, trying constantly to help him rationalise and comprehend the situation no matter how many times he hissed and shouted, and ignored her aid.

 

Amelia was loyal. It went without saying. She stayed by his bedside the whole time he was comatose, determined never to leave him. While there was a time when Loki had misinterpreted the relationship between Amelia and Thor, he had no doubts now that she would stay with him for as long as she lived.

 

“Shockingly, I agree with Loki”, Clint stated flatly, “You strike me a Hufflepuff.”

 

“Come  _ on.  _ I think I’m brave enough to be a Gryffindor”, her lips puckered up as she silently moped.

 

“What’s wrong with being in Hufflepuff?” Steve inquired defensively.

 

“Nothing!”

 

“Well then”, Steve smiled, “Welcome to Hufflepuff.”

 

Amelia sighed, and then, as if mirroring Loki’s earlier thoughts, spoke with a taunting edge in his direction, “You didn’t think I was a loyal Hufflepuff when you thought I was canoodling with your brother.”

 

At the mention, Loki’s lips pulled back in disdain at the fact she would bring such a thing up - was she  _ trying _ to make him feel awkward and shameful at his wild assumptions all those days ago. 

 

Nevertheless, Loki wasn’t going to let those emotions pester him, instead he smirked, cool and offhand, “I  _ shudder _ to think of you and my brother together,  _ ugh,  _ the offspring you would’ve made... you should consider yourself lucky that you are mine, otherwise your babies would look like ugly little ogres.”

 

Thor, who had been part-way through sipping his glass of wine, began to sputter at the jibe that had come completely out of nowhere. 

 

_ “Wow”,  _ Amelia exclaimed sarcastically, “how lovely! Is that your  _ oh _ so charming way of telling me you want children?”

 

It was meant as a teasing remark, but the words struck Loki like a fast-moving vehicle, knocking the smugness off of his face in a heartbeat. His expression fell, his mind immediately greeted with what  _ had  _ been the faraway recollections of his coma dreams in which he had come to believe he was the father of an infant boy named Leif.

 

Everyone was staring at him, Loki realised, waiting for him to comeback with his own taunting comments, but no playfully goading words formed in his mind. He was too busy focusing on Amelia’s innocent question. A prodding tightness formed in his chest and he pursed his lips, his unblinking stare finding the concern in Amelia’s expression.

 

She seemed to already regret the words that had left her mouth, “I’m sorry, Loki”, she rushed to apologise, quiet and meek, though she probably had no idea why her question had had such a negative effect on him, “Just forget I said it, okay?”

 

The tug in his chest was bordering on painful as he tried to think of anything but that horrible vision Thanos had instilled in his mind. The way he’d watched Amelia and his non-existent child  _ burn alive. _

 

He placed the half-empty glass of wine down on the coffee table and stood, long strides leading him out of the room despite Amelia’s imploring cries of  _ ‘wait, come back!’  _ and ‘ _ Loki, I’m sorry!’  _ echoing off the walls. Loki marched down the corridor towards the elevator, his steps speeding up as he went as the feeling of an encroaching darkness began to overtake him.

 

Very soon, he was jogging, and then he was running. The elevator was too slow, so he passed by it and climbed the block of staircases that led up to the floor his bedroom was on with impressive speed.

 

Dark tendrils crept along the back of his brain like evil, monstrous fingers dragging across his skull, threatening him to do as he was told, to control him and push him to do awful things that he would never otherwise do. He needed to  _ escape  _ it.

 

He flung himself through the door of his room, slamming it firmly behind him, and dived across the bed, rolling off the other side; he crouched low to the floor, curling up as tightly as his body would allow, and clamped his hands over his ears to try and block out the phantom laughter of that damned Mad Titan.

 

* * *

 

Amelia almost tripped in her effort to chase after Loki; he had rushed off so suddenly, but his pace was so brutal that she could still hear his footsteps echoing all the way down the stairwell and through the hallway.

 

_ What had she said to invoke such a reaction?  _ She’d just been messing around and playfully said something that alluded to the future of their relationship and whether children would potentially be a part of it; she hadn’t expected Loki to have a full-on meltdown and run away.

 

She took the lift up, definitely not fit enough to sprint up the stairs like Loki had, and every second longer the elevator took to reach its destination, the more dread filled her body. She’d ruined the fun little party, and the others had all looked at her in shock after Loki stormed out, clearly speechless over how to interpret Loki’s behaviour. It couldn’t have been anything good.

 

Amelia squeezed her way through the lift doors before they’d even fully opened, and stumbled down the corridor towards the bedroom she and Loki shared. He hadn’t locked the door, at the very least, but there were cracks in the frame that she was sure hadn’t been there before, indicating that he had shut the door with force.

 

She took a deep breath and proceeded through the door, pressing it open tentatively as her eyes flickered about the room. 

 

Amelia heard him before she saw him in the darkness of the room. The telltale noises of sharp inhales and exhales - the sound of someone struggling to stay calm - just short of hyperventilation; she stepped cautiously around the bed and found Loki crumpled on the floor, shuddering with each breath he took.

 

“Loki”, she whispered, “what happened? What’s wrong?” She lowered to her knees, reaching out a hesitant hand to lay gently on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off, shaking his head almost frantically.

 

“Don’t.” He said, voice clipped,  _ “Don’t.” _

 

“Loki, listen to me. Whatever is troubling you, I’m here, alright?” Amelia spoke, her voice pleading, “I’m sorry if what I said upset you. I  _ promise  _ I won’t bring up anything like it again, but please speak to me.”

 

She rubbed Loki’s shoulder, and his eyes opened, blinking several times fast; Amelia could see from the reflection of moonlight pouring through the window that his eyes were wet and he was trying to dispel the tears; he pushed himself off of the floor into a partial-sitting position, but kept his body drawn in tight, sniffling as he tried to soothe his quick breaths.

 

“I- I tried to forget, but it keeps coming-  _ back”,  _ he stammered through his muted sobs, clenching his hand on the edge of the nightstand and  _ squeezing  _ till the wood threatened to give.

 

“Tried to forget what?” Amelia murmured softly.

 

His jaw tightened as his teeth gritted together, “...the things I  _ saw.”  _

 

The way he spoke made Amelia unsettled, a sudden daunting curiosity of what the god had seen to put him in such a state, but despite the foreboding feeling sinking to the pit of her stomach, she tightened her hand on his shoulder and pressed, “What did you see?”

 

A noise of despair slipped from Loki’s throat, “I tried to put it out of my mind, but it’s  _ impossible…” _

 

“Loki,  _ tell me,  _ please.”

 

“I can’t.”

 

“Yes, you can!”

 

_ “I can’t.”  _ He bit the words out, voice full of frustration as he shook his head, and Amelia shuffled to kneel in front of him, cupping his wet face in her palms, her own eyes beginning to sting as she forced him to look at her.

 

“Why?”

 

Loki lips parted as he tried to settle his hard breaths, “Because… I-I don’t want you to  _ pity me.” _

 

Amelia tilted her head, looking into his pained eyes. “Loki, I don’t… I don’t pity you”, she breathed, “whatever thoughts and visions are plaguing you, we can deal with it  _ together.  _ I  _ don’t _ pity you, Loki.”

 

It was so  _ difficult  _ not knowing why Loki was so distraught, and it was frustrating that he had refused to disclose that information for so long, because Amelia firmly believed that if she knew the problem, she could help solve it. She didn’t just acknowledge his suffering, she  _ felt  _ it; and if it was this bad for her, Amelia couldn’t envision what Loki had endured.

 

“I want your suffering to end, Loki”, Amelia told him, “If you tell me, then it will be easier for me to  _ help.” _

 

Loki’s mouth opened and closed several times, before finally his furrowed eyebrow smoothed out, eyes widening just a tad, and he looked as though, for the first time, he  _ believed  _ those words.

 

His lips wobbled, his breath hitched, and then the utterance fell from his mouth very quickly, “I saw you die…” He held his breath for a few moment, and fresh tears joined the tracks that already framed his face, “-again… and again,  _ and again.” _

 

Amelia’s jaw fell at the confession. When she didn’t say anything, Loki continued to speak, his words coming out of his mouth in a rush, as if the only way to say what he wanted to say was to force it out without hesitation. Like ripping a band-aid from a cut.

 

“I saw you die so many times, in so many different ways, and each time I thought it was real. It all felt so  _ real,  _ and I- every time you died, it felt like it was my fault, because I couldn’t save you… I couldn’t save you”, he took a quivering breath, “It got to a point where I didn’t believe anything I saw, but it still  _ hurt.  _ It didn’t make it any less painful… and then I woke up in a deceptively cosy home, and you were there, happy and alive, and I-  _ I fell for it. I let myself believe it was real.  _ It was just so normal, and- and we… we had a child…” 

 

Amelia felt her heart thudding rampantly in her chest as she watched Loki with devastating incredulity, listening to his every word. The way he had reacted to her innocuously-posed question began to make sense.

 

“He was so small”, Loki whispered, “and I… I looked after him. I helped feed him, I bathed him, I clothed him, and I rocked him to sleep”, he shut his eyes tight as a sorrowful retch left his throat, “and in the end… I watched you both  _ burn.  _ I couldn’t save either of you… the flames were too hot, and  _ I tried, but it hurt- I could feel the fire scorching my flesh, it was so real.” _

 

Loki hiccuped, and exhaled slowly, slumping down to rest his head on Amelia’s shoulder, and as he did so, she circled her arms around him and held him tightly, reluctant to ever let him go ever again.

 

“But it wasn’t real”, Loki went on to say, his voice muffled by the material of Amelia’s shirt, “He wasn’t real. You weren’t real. Nothing was  _ real.”  _ He released a breathy sob, “And I feel like such a fool for failing to see for so long that  _ you  _ are real.” His weeps trailed into weak, broken laughter, “...I’m such an idiot”, he giggled neurotically, “I’m sorry… I’m sorry.”

 

Amelia’s fingers threaded gently through his hair as she stroked his scalp soothingly, taking in everything he’d just confessed to her. She was shocked; Amelia had never imagined that Loki had experienced so much overwhelming  _ loss  _ while his body was unconscious, while he lay delusively calm and tranquil in the infirmary bed all that time, all the while facing a traumatic set of events.

 

All Amelia had to draw comparisons to was her own confrontation with loss, and she thought hard about what she had needed to hear during those times she was alone at night in the darkness of her old apartment; it wouldn’t have helped to be told any fanciful assumptions about how things would all get better in the end, but one thing she really could have done with was simply… a little reassurance.

 

“Look at me”, Amelia breathed, leaning back a little so that she could cradle Loki’s face in her hands once again and give him a look designed to dispel his fears. He kept his hold tight around her, but pulled back to allow her to see his eyes; Loki’s face never got all red and puffy when he cried, his eyes looked a little glassy, but apart from that, once he wiped the wet trails off his cheeks, it wasn’t obvious that he’d been crying.

 

A small smile pulled at Amelia’s lips, “We’re alive, and Thanos is dead. We  _ won,  _ and he faced the consequences of his actions. We’re stronger than him”, she told the god,  _ “you’re  _ stronger than him.”

 

His eyes slipped shut as he breathed slow and deeply, nodding his head to Amelia’s words, and he wiped his face dry with the sleeve of his shirt.

 

“I understand now, Loki… why you acted the way you did when you first woke up, why it took so long for you to trust what you were seeing with your own eyes. And I want you to know that I forgive you.”

 

Loki’s lips parted, his eyes growing wide, and in those eyes was an unrelenting flood of relief; he collapsed against her again, pulling her flush against his chest, so secure that she could feel the pounding beat of his heart in time with her own.

 

Loki wasn’t the only one experiencing relief. His admission of what he had gone through struck Amelia as a big step forwards in progression, and the alleviation of worry which had set itself in the back of her mind for so long was slowly budging to make way for solace.

 

Things were going to be alright, she just knew it.

 

“I left the party”, Loki murmured, “Does this mean our deal is off?”

 

Amelia grinned, her chest trembling with laughter, “You gave it a go, love. I’ll still cook you dinner for two weeks, I promise.”

 

Loki nuzzled against her neck, inhaling against her skin, and his lips - pulled into a smile - brushed against the sensitive patch below her ear, prompting her to shiver.

 

He pulled back, and stared into her eyes, his gaze communicating so much more than words could in that moment, and Amelia dipped her head in a nod, her tongue darting out to wet her lips in anticipation. Loki’s hand found its way to the back of her neck, silently urging her to lean closer so that their mouths could come together in their first kiss since before the  _ Infinity War. _

 

_ Zzzzt. Beep beep. Zzzzt. _

 

The two of them froze before their lips could meet, both looking down in faint confusion; Amelia blinked, reaching into her pocket to retrieve her phone, which had chosen the absolute worst time to interrupt.

 

She would have turned it off, so that she and Loki could resume their romantic gesture, but Amelia caught sight of the screen which revealed the disquieting notification,  _ 8 Voicemails Available. _

 

The words instilled a sense of anxiousness in her chest, discomfiting and impending, so much so that she couldn’t possibly get back to what she was doing until she took the time to listen to at least one of the messages.

 

They were all from the same unknown number. Each of the messages had been left over the course of the past week or so.

 

“Sorry, I… uh, just a moment”, Amelia mumbled, her face reddening slightly at Loki’s pointed stare. She switched the phone to speaker and selected the most recent message, holding her breath as a prerecorded voice echoed through.

 

_ “Hello, Miss Amelia Avery. My name is Doctor Nieves. I have attempted to contact you several times the past few days but haven’t had much luck; as your current home address is not listed, I apologise in advance that I cannot pass on this news in person. On the 20th of October, your father, Alexander Avery, suffered a heart attack and passed away in his home in the late evening. Please contact me at this number as soon as possible so that we can discuss the arrangements that need to be made.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I said before, I've had a bit of a rough few weeks, and you know what would be absolutely awesome right about now? To hear all your lovely comments, ideas and feedback. I've left this one on a bit of a cliffhanger, but I'm excited to write whats to come, and also NEXT week, I'm off work, so I'll have plenty of time to write!
> 
> Thank you all so much for your continued support. It means the absolute world to me, and your comments make my day when I get to read them <3


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayyyyy, I did tell yah I'd post a chapter by Wednesday. A bit late in the day, but still in time! ;)
> 
> So I just saw Captain Marvel on Sunday and um IT WAS AMAZING. I LOVED IT. AHHHHHHHH!!!
> 
> But it only makes me more nervous for End Game... I'm terrified you guys, give me strength pls.

Amelia’s movements were clipped and sharp as she walked around the florist, doing her last minute checks of the front of the shop to ensure everything was properly placed, neat and tidy for the evening shut-down. It had been a long day; everybody else’s shifts had finished early, and the manager had left her in charge of the store, despite the fact that there were far too many tasks for her to accomplish by herself.

 

Her body ached, it had been far too busy in the store that afternoon and she had been on her feet constantly since the beginning of her shift, helping many different customers, giving them forced pleasantries and strained smiles, even having to put up with the people who looked down on her with their snooty faces, all the while being unable to call them out for being utterly snobbish.

 

She just wanted to get home, shower away all the grime of everyday life, and snuggle up in the warmth and softness of her bed, but before she could do that, she had to sweep the floor of the whole store, shutdown the cash register, water every potted plant, and stow some heavy delivery boxes in the back room - all within the next ten minutes, which was when she was _supposed_ to clock out and lock up.

 

That wasn’t going to happen.

 

When she bent down to lift the first delivered crate, her thighs and back objected, the twinges of pain keeping her from even pulling it off the floor, and she hissed out a noise of frustration, abandoning the attempt and slamming her fist against the top of the plastic container. _Immediate regret._ The case was surprisingly solid, and the pain that was spreading throughout her fingers and the side of her hand was quite evident of this.

 

Amelia whimpered, cradling her hand to her chest as she flexed the digits to check they were all still in one piece, before letting out an infuriated growl.

 

This was ridiculous. How was she supposed to lift these things?

 

Storming through to the back room, Amelia snatched up the broom and began to sweep up the dust and dirt across the tiled floor, pausing every few minutes to roll her shoulders in an effort to lessen the dull pain forming at the top of her spine.

 

The day had truly been an exercise in self-control, because the urge to just throw the broom down and kick over the displays was far too prominent - and the impulses really bothered her, because she was far from violent or destructive in nature. She just needed to let off some steam, and her eight-hour work shift had done nothing to help, winding her up tighter than she could bear.

 

Tentative taps against glass pulled Amelia out of her anxious trance, and she turned her attention to the front of the shop where Loki was peering through the window, a slight perplexion knitted into his furrowed brow. Amelia turned her head and checked the clock - it was exactly six-thirty, the end of her shift, and Loki had dutifully come to walk her home as he was so fond of doing, but she had yet to complete her tasks, and thus could not yet leave.

 

She heaved a sigh, her face falling as stress bubbled in her chest. The worst thing about staying to work past her contracted hours was that she wouldn’t get paid extra for it, nor would her manager even have the decency to thank her.

 

Why did she work here again? Oh yeah. The flowers.

 

Loki tapped again, one eyebrow arched expectantly, and Amelia dragged herself behind the counter to grab the shop key. She unlocked the door and held it open, stepping aside and motioning for Loki to enter; he seemed vaguely confused by the gesture but entered nonetheless, remaining quiet and patient as she locked the door again before padding up to the counter and placing the key back in its place.

 

Amelia attempted to mask her misery by pursing her lips and raising her eyebrows, but she could tell by the contemplative stare Loki was giving her that her distress was far too obvious; when he opened his mouth to speak, Amelia quickly interrupted.

 

“I’m fine”, she stated, predicting his enquiry.

 

Loki paused, his gaze dragging over her with that intensely scrutinising look, and Amelia always felt as though he was staring into her soul, pouring over the pages that listed every single negative emotion and thought that was occurring within her body with explicit clarity.

 

“Do you need help?” He finally asked, his voice pacifying in his offer of assistance, and Amelia nodded her head wordlessly, utterly grateful. “What do you need me to do?”

 

Taking a moment to consider the outstanding tasks of the evening, Amelia spoke in a gentle and undemanding way, “Can you carry those crates into the back room, and then water the potted plants for me, please?”

 

Loki cast a glance towards the indicated crates and nodded his head; Amelia watched him bend to pick one up, and faltered in her sweeping when he lifted all three at once without any trouble. Any other time, she would have been enamoured by his show of strength, but after a long and taxing day of work, it just left her feeling inadequate.

 

She turned her back, sweeping with a little more vigour as she blinked away the stinging tears in the corners of her eyes, the handle of the broom clacking carelessly against low shelving units as she brushed the floor beneath them.

 

When Loki disappeared into the back room, Amelia propped the broom up by the door and crossed over to the till, unlocking the register to begin counting and sorting the money. It was only a few seconds later that the god reemerged and approached, picking up the little flower pot on the counter before her. The ceramic pot housed a sprig of clematis, and Loki held it up below his nose, inhaling the sweet scent he loved so much.

 

Amelia sniffed, “The tap is over there”, she kept her head down but motioned the direction with her hand, “you can use the jug on the side to water them.”

 

Loki didn’t move immediately, and his silent staring was beginning to make Amelia uncomfortable; she chewed the inside of her cheek as she picked up the cash notes from the till, totaling the amount in her head. The god moved away eventually to do as Amelia requested, shuffling throughout the shop to water the larger potted flowers, before returning to the till to diffidently sprinkle a small amount into the clematis pot.

 

For some reason, Amelia found the gesture oddly tender, which only served to trigger a fresh wave of emotion to bubble up, making her throat tight, her cheeks hot, and causing her brow to pull into a perpetual crease.

 

“I know you’re upset about last night.”

 

Amelia blinked her eyes hard and rapidly, shaking her head tightly after Loki broke the silence; she plucked the coins out of the register, her hands clenching so hard around them that they were sure to leave an imprint in her scarred palms.

 

“No.” It was all she could say between her gritted teeth.

 

“You’re the one always telling me not to bottle up my feelings”, Loki spoke, “I think you should take your own advice.”

 

“I said I’m _fine.”_ She’d told him so last night immediately after putting her phone away. It was fine. She was fine. Amelia was not bothered in the _slightest_ to receive news that her asshole father had passed away.

 

Loki didn’t seem to accept her answer, his probing stare simultaneously trying to decipher her thoughts and coax them out of her. His pursed lips, slightly furrowed brow, and seemingly endless gaze was making it even more difficult for Amelia to keep her emotions in check.

 

“If you’re upset-”

 

“I’m not- _fuck”,_ Amelia snapped, stepping back as one of the coins pinged out of her hand and went rolling across the tiled flooring, “-shit, fuck, _shit.”_ She scrambled to pick up the insignificant, errant quarter, kneeling to reach for it, but the desire to stand up dwindled when she realised her eyes were filling with tears that she couldn’t comprehend. All she knew was that she didn’t want Loki to see her cry.

 

“I’m not upset about it”, she managed to say, though it was growing exceedingly hard to keep the despondency out of her voice, “Why would I be upset about it? He was a piece of shit and he never loved me! Why should I care that he’s dead? _I hated him._ I don’t care, I don’t…” she rushed to cut herself off as a sob threatened to escape from her throat. The tears flowed down her cheeks, and Amelia held her breath, determined not to sniffle or whimper.

 

Loki knelt by her side, wrapping her up in his arms and pulling her close; Amelia kept her head low, but it must have been clear to Loki that she was crying when he felt the wetness seeping through his shirt. “You are not a hateful person, Amelia”, he spoke knowingly, “but your anger and frustrations are equitable reasons to be upset. Perhaps that is why you are crying. Or perhaps, despite your claim that you don’t care, there is a part of you that wished for a better relationship with your father.”

 

Amelia shook her head, likely staining Loki’s shirt further, ever insistent of her feelings. She had had hope that her relationship with her father could mend up until Aaron’s funeral, but the short interaction she had shared with the man made it clear that he would never apologise for the way he treated her.

 

She had made her decision that day; she would never forgive him.

 

“Listen, Amelia. If that is the case, I do not understand _why_ you would feel that way, but I also would not be surprised”, Loki murmured, a slight smile to his voice, and then stated offhandedly, “Humans are confusing creatures with confusing emotions.”

 

Amelia appreciated his attempt to lift the mood with a humorous remark, and endeavoured to respond, which was rather difficult when her throat was tight and her voice was marred with agitation. “Don’t act like you’re above emotions”, she managed to sniffle, “You got moody when I used the last of your favourite shower gel the other day.”

 

“It smells good and I wanted to use it.”

 

“Yeah, but did you- did you have to give me the silent treatment for an hour afterwards?” Amelia hiccupped and snickered.

 

“You _knew_ it was my favourite.”

 

“Oh my god. You’re a wizard, can’t you just conjure up a new bottle?”

 

“I’m a _sorcerer,_ and no. It does not work like that.” Loki sighed, and presumably rolled his eyes at Amelia’s quip. “We should hurry and leave, if you are done with your tasks?”

 

Amelia just wanted to bury her face deeper in Loki’s shoulder and savour the warmth of his gentle, secure embrace, but she supposed it was growing later by the minute, and she was tired enough as it was. A good snooze was what she really needed.

 

“Alright. Let me just finish counting the money”, Amelia whispered, drawing away from Loki to wipe her face with her sleeve.

 

It didn’t take much longer for Amelia to secure the cash and lock up the shop; the night breeze was windy, and Loki casually slipped his coat from his shoulders at the first sign of a shiver from Amelia, and wrapped it around her instead, as his body was completely unaffected by the chill in the air. Amelia smiled fondly, pulling the garment tighter around her body to ward off the cold.

 

When Loki took her hand firmly, she found that she felt safer than she ever had.

 

“I’m not really upset that he’s dead, you know”, Amelia said quietly after a short while of silent thought, now more in control of her emotions. She felt the need to explain herself, because she truly did not want Loki to think she would actually mourn the man who made her life a living hell. “I think I’m upset because I’ve spent my whole life waiting for a little elucidation on just why he despised me so much, and now I will never know the real reason. It makes me angry. It’s unfair.”

 

Loki nodded his head in understanding, “Whatever the reason, the problem did not lie with you. You are… wonderful”, he smiled a genuine smile - the kind that always filled Amelia’s stomach with butterflies, “your father was clearly a fool of a man if he was unable to see that.”

 

Amelia’s gaze dropped shyly, her mouth pulling into a smile she couldn’t contain, and her cheeks growing warm with blush, but she gripped Loki’s hand tighter to show her appreciation for his compliment.

 

“There’s something else too”, she murmured hesitantly, “I never expected to be the last surviving member of my family, and it’s… daunting that I’m the only one left. It makes me feel alone.”

 

Loki breathed out, “You are far from alone.”

 

Amelia was grateful for those words, but the doubts must have lingered on her face, because Loki took her wrist and urged her to a halt. His face took on a very serious aspect, and his cold hand brushed her cheek, sending another quiver down her spine.

 

“Trust me, Amelia. The Avengers may as well be your family. Stark already treats you as though you are, my brother speaks so highly of you when you are not around, you never fail to put a smile on Banner’s face. The others - you’ve only known them for a short time, and yet Romanoff is so willing to be your teacher. Rogers, and even Barton, have taken a liking to you, that much is clear. And although they are an often intolerable group of individuals”, he paused to heave a dramatic sigh, “they are most certainly your friends… and it is better to have a few good friends than family who are indifferent to you.”

 

Amelia’s lips wobbled as she looked the god in the eyes and saw no deceptive fabrications; Loki’s words were more than a comfort, they were a gateway to pure reassurance.

 

“That was oddly wholesome of you”, Amelia whispered as she bit her lip.

 

“If you repeat anything I just said to the others, you will regret it.”

 

“What would you do if I did?” Amelia challenged slyly, and watched as Loki’s eyebrow quirked up.

 

“I shall conjure some grisly, grotesque spiders to crawl around your underwear drawer.”

 

Amelia pouted, “What? No, you won’t!”

 

“Try me”, Loki’s expression took on a provocative look, as if daring her to follow through, and Amelia gulped in response.

 

“You can’t do that, right? Conjure spiders? Please tell me you can’t.”

 

Spiders were not quite Amelia’s favourite thing in the world, and Loki knew full well that they gave her the creeps.

 

“Of course I can. I’m an all-powerful sorcerer.”

 

“If you conjure spiders in my underwear, _you_ will regret it.”

 

Loki laughed, “Well then, keep quiet and neither of us have anything to worry about. Now come along, I’m hungry”, he proclaimed, “If you do not feel up to cooking a meal, then I will not hold it against you. We can order pizza instead.”

 

“Are you kidding me?” Amelia sputtered, “The deal was that I cook you dinner every night for two weeks. I ain’t gonna back down.” She was wholly determined to show that she could dutifully uphold her side of the bargain, and nothing would stand in the way of her doing so.

 

Loki smirked. “Good. I was hoping you would say that.”

 

* * *

 

Amelia, although a little quiet that evening, was feeling a lot better after returning home from work; she took a hot shower and let the warm water soothe her aching muscles, the steam clearing her sinuses, and used the citrus-scented body wash - instead of the eucalyptus mint shower gel, which was Loki’s favourite - to wash away the sweat from a hard day’s work.

 

She was in the mood for spaghetti and meatballs that night; she checked whether the dish was alright with Loki before collecting the ingredients, and Loki informed her that regardless of what she intended to cook, it would always be alright.

 

“You really love my cooking that much, huh?”

 

Loki always hovered nearby when she prepared meals, watching intently as she went about mincing the beef and mixing it together with garlic and various herbs before forming them into several small balls. He would inevitably begin to salivate over the smells that would rise when the food began to cook, becoming more restless the longer it took.

 

“Every one of your dishes are immensely palatable, darling.”

 

Amelia giggled, “Well, thank you very much. Perhaps next time we can cook together.”

 

Loki’s face scrunched up with irresolution, “I fear that would be unwise.”

 

Amelia blinked. “Why?”

 

“Because Loki cannot cook”, Thor announced with all the smugness of the mouse that got the cheese, wandering up to the counter Loki was leaning on so that he could get a good whiff of the delicious cuisine.

 

“I can cook meats”, the God of Mischief argued, a hint of indignation to his tone.

 

“Yes, till they char”, Thor riposted with a shit-eating grin, “and don’t think that throwing a few potatoes and vegetables into the mix could salvage anything you ever dared place in a cookpot.”

 

“At least I can skin a rabbit without flinching in disgust”, Loki hissed under his breath.

 

_“Ooh,_ says the man who _cried_ the first time he killed a deer during a hunt.”

 

“I was a _child-”_

 

“Okay, enough of _that_ please”, Amelia quickly put an end to the quarrelling of the brothers and their nasty talk of skinning and killing woodland critters. If she allowed them to continue, she might’ve been put off the food. “Thor, would you like to join us for dinner?” She motioned the boiling spaghetti and frying meatballs.

 

Those bright, mismatched eyes lit up like a christmas tree, but his delighted and positive response was quickly interrupted by the bitterly disappointed protest that was barked from Loki’s throat. “No, it’s _my_ food!”

 

“Actually it’s _our_ food”, Amelia stifled the amused curl of her lip, “and _I_ am the one cooking, so I can say whether or not Thor can have some too.”

 

“But there’s not enough”, Loki whined - though he would never allow anything he ever said to be described as such.

 

“There’s plenty.”

 

“But it wasn’t part of our _deal.”_

 

“Technically, it wasn’t _not_ part of the deal.”

 

Loki’s face took on a very displeased expression, to which Amelia laughed aloud, shaking her head at the god’s immature outburst, “You really love to be dramatic, don’t you, Loki?” Any other man, and Amelia would be repelled by his behaviour, but there was something about Loki’s desire to have the meal all to himself that she found oddly endearing. It was as if he cherished her cooking so much that he couldn’t bear to see it falling into the stomach of anybody but himself. Sure, it was a bit selfish, but Amelia knew he would the god would relent at her insistence.

 

“Thor can join us. You have two weeks of delicious meals ahead of you, remember?” Amelia spoke in a singsong voice as she began to stir the pasta.

 

“Your kindness is magnificent”, Thor remarked, his mouth stretched into a wide, ecstatic smile, “and your cooking is impeccable!” He took a seat at the counter beside Loki, fingers interlocked together, back straight, adopting his finest posture of patience, and pretended to ignore the evident glare he was receiving from his younger brother.

 

When the food was ready to serve a short time later, Loki and Thor were practically taut with anticipation, and when the plates were placed before them, they were on the edge of their seats. The God of Thunder began to dig in immediately, his first mouthful matched with a hum of utter delight, while Loki was a little more restrained; he sat back as Amelia rounded the counter to place the dish in front of him and voiced his gratefulness.

 

“Thank you, Amelia.”

 

“You’re welcome”, Amelia responded softly, stalling him with a hand on his forearm before he could follow Thor’s example, and she leaned in slowly to press a tender kiss to his cheek, _“enjoy.”_

 

It brought a genuine smile, however small, to Loki’s face, and he quickly grabbed his knife and fork to begin devouring the delicious meal laid before him. Amelia sat opposite him and started to eat from her own dish, watching intently as Loki’s eyes subtly lit up as he processed each flavour on his tongue.

 

They ate in silence, except for Thor’s occasional enraptured hum, until several minutes had passed, and slowly, Amelia began to realise that something wasn’t quite right with Loki’s expression. Everything had started off completely fine, but it seemed as though with every bite Loki took, he was growing more and more agitated.

 

His eyebrows were furrowed, his jaw was tightly clenched as he chewed each mouthful of food, and his face appeared slightly flushed.

 

“Is everything okay, Loki? Does it taste good?” Amelia enquired, her face pinched with a hint of concern.

 

“Yes. It’s good.” Loki’s response was clipped and simple, his gaze burning into the half-consumed portion of spaghetti, and Amelia looked curiously between him and Thor, noting that Thor did not seem bothered in any way with his dinner. In fact, Thor was very almost finished.

 

“It’s _delectable,_ Amelia!” Thor almost exclaimed, his hand covering his mouth to avoid spraying food everywhere with his enthusiastic input.

 

Amelia smiled and nodded in thanks, and then looked pointedly back to Loki, head tilted with bemusement as she tried to decipher the discomfited scrunch of the god’s face. And then it hit her.

 

“Is the sauce too spicy?”

 

Loki shook his head in dissent, licking his lips as he took another mouthful, and Amelia frowned in confusion.

 

“Are you sure?” She pressed, not entirely certain whether to believe him or not. She had added quite a few spices and herbs into the tomato sauce, so she wouldn’t have been surprised if that was the issue - but Thor was apparently unaffected. She, herself, had a good tolerance for spice, but she was completely unaware of Loki’s threshold with hot foods.

 

“Yes, it’s- it’s fine.” The stammer was telling enough as it was without the breathless delivery of his reply, plus, Amelia was certain she could see a thin film of moisture layering his eyes. It was definitely too spicy for him.

 

“Loki, you don’t have to eat it if you don’t like it-”

 

“No, I _do_ like it. I do”, he was quick to argue, not willing to let Amelia believe for one moment that he could find her cooking unappetising, and Amelia smiled sympathetically, watching Loki attempt to feast upon the rest of his meal without showing how much it was paining him.

 

Who knew the God of Mischief couldn’t handle a little spice?

 

* * *

 

Loki sat awake that night, back against the headboard while Amelia slept beside him; he was troubled by the sensation of fluctuating burning in his throat that didn’t seem to want to let up, and it wasn’t something that he could ever remember bothering him before. The spice of Amelia’s spaghetti and meatballs had been a little much for him, but the last thing he had wanted was for Amelia to feel bad that that _specific_ element of her cooking left him inwardly gagging, so he’d forced himself to finish it, because the rest of it _was_ spectacular.

 

But _damn_ the spices.

 

He wondered now if this somewhat painful symptom was a result of his inability to ingest spice. It probably was. He’d always stayed away from particularly spicy herbs for a reason - _they set his throat alight._

 

He’d have to let Amelia know the next time she cooked that anything spicy was out of the question.

 

Loki winced and swallowed as the fiery sting crept up his oesophagus once more, creating a feeling of discomfort throughout his throat and chest; he’d tried drinking from the glass of water on his bedside table, but that had seemed to make it worse, so he’d tried using his magic to cool the temperature of the water to a little above freezing, and taken another sip.

 

It appeared to have worked for a few moments, and then the red-hot pain had returned, undefeated. The soreness made him growl. All he could do was sit up straight, because lying down made it easier for the raging flames in his stomach to reach up his throat.

 

Amelia shifted beside him for the millionth time that night, rolling over so that she was facing him, brow knitted tight as her eyes squeezed shut, and a sigh escaped her. She blinked her eyelids open, quickly realising Loki was awake, and looked sleepily up at him.

 

“Alright?” She murmured.

 

“Mm”, Loki responded, neither affirming or dissenting. It was his abridged way of saying _‘I’ve been better.’_

 

Amelia stretched, heaving another sigh, and sat up as well, shifting till she was up against the headboard and curled up to Loki’s side, to which Loki moved his arm around her, welcoming the snuggly gesture.

 

“Did’ja have another nightmare?” She asked softly, and Loki shook his head.

 

“No, it’s not that.”

 

“Just can’t sleep?”

 

“Sort of.”

 

“I can’t sleep”, Amelia breathed lazily, using Loki’s shoulder as a pillow, “I have a lot on my mind.”

 

That explained why she had been moving around so much the past few hours - she hadn’t been sleeping at all, Loki had just been too distracted to notice she was conscious the whole time.

 

“Thinking about your father?” Loki inquired tentatively. It had kept her up the previous night, and he was sure she probably still had a lot of things to pour over in her mind. The man’s death had definitely been ill-timed, Loki still hadn’t gotten the chance to kiss Amelia since the phone call had interjected.

 

“A little. But mostly it’s…” She trailed off, turning her head to glance at the displayed time on the clock sitting on her bedside table. It read _2:41am._

 

“What?”

 

“...nothing. Just… everything, y’know?” Her lips curled into a presumably sarcastic smile, and Loki gave a huff of acknowledgement. He knew the feeling of being overwhelmed by life.

 

The searing burn leapt up his throat again, and this time he groaned, tilting his head back to look up at the ceiling, as if that would force the metaphorical fire back down into his stomach; he felt Amelia’s gaze on him then, and sensed it was filled with concern.

 

“Are you alright, Loki?” She asked again, her evident tiredness seeping into her voice, causing it to crack a little.

 

Loki let out a distressed breath, shaking his head, “My throat is burning. It won’t stop.”

 

“Burning?” Amelia repeated, the tone of her voice clearly laced with confusion thanks to her drowsy state; she rubbed her eyes with her balled fists, leaning back to get a better look at Loki, squinting through the darkness of the room, “you mean like a sore throat? You haven’t gotten-” she yawned, “-you haven’t gotten sick in all the time I’ve known you.”

 

Loki shook his head, “Not like that. It’s just burning, like fire.”

 

Amelia blinked, “Is this to do with the food I cooked for you? It _was_ too spicy for you, wasn’t it?” There was a knowing little smile on her face that teetered on the edge of apologetic, but landed more heavily on the side of amused.

 

“It’s not funny. My throat is _burning.”_ Loki frowned, his lips puckering into a slight pout over the fact that she would be entertained by his suffering. The sensation grew stronger, and he laid a hand over his chest, pressing his fingers into the dip of his throat above his collarbones, as if the action would lessen the scalding of his flesh within.

 

“Oh, stop being a _drama queen._ It’s probably just heartburn”, Amelia snorted, pulling his hand away from his throat.

 

Loki stared at her, eyes widening with a slightly alarmed puzzlement, “My _heart_ is burning?”

 

“No-” Amelia broke off into a fit of giggles, resting her palm against her forehead in sluggish merriment, “no, it’s when stomach acid goes up into the oesophagus. The spice probably agitated your stomach, so it’s… it’s no wonder your throat is hurting-” another yawn interrupted her, and she blinked a few times to get the sleep out of her eyes.

 

“How do I _stop_ it?” Loki groaned, growing slightly impatient with the red-hot twinges.

 

“Well that’s easy”, Amelia stated, pushing back the covers. She padded around the room, adorning herself with her dressing gown and slippers, and grabbed Loki’s hand, tugging him out of the bed, “come on, let’s go to the kitchen.”

 

Loki followed her obediently, unwilling to argue in any way. If Amelia knew the cure to his ailment, then the last thing he wanted to do was refuse it; he trailed after her through the hallway, down the elevator, through the _other_ hallway, and into the lounge quarters.

 

She stopped in the kitchen and opened up the refrigerator, procuring one of the cartons within, “A glass of milk will end your torment”, she declared with a lopsided grin, and then went about grabbing a cup from the cabinet.

 

“Milk? Really?” Loki questioned with a skeptical tone, “Only children drink milk.”

 

“Uhh, no. Loads of people drink milk. Milk is _great”,_ Amelia contended, apparently viciously protective of milk, “It tastes nice and creamy, and it stops heartburn, so there.”

 

“I already tried to drink water and it didn’t work. Why should milk?”

 

“Because _milk is just that good.”_ Amelia grumbled as she poured the glass, “It has different, like, _properties,_ or something. And it works _differently_ in your stomach than _water_ does. Ugh-” she appeared to be struggling to word her defense given that her mind was very much suffering from sleep deprivation. “Milk strengthens your bones! That’s another good thing! I used to drink milk _all_ the time, and I’ve only ever broken _one_ bone. What about you?”

 

“I don’t know. It’s in the hundreds.” He’d lost count a while ago.

 

An amusing, incoherent noise of disbelief escaped Amelia’s mouth, and she looked up at him with horrific incredulity, “Holy _shit,_ Loki. That’s why you need to drink more milk.”

 

“A little milk will not stop my bones from breaking if they are hit with enough force to break them in the first place. What’s so great about milk, anyway?”

 

“Because. It’s just _good,_ okay?”

 

“Oh, it’s just _good,_ is it?” Loki rolled his eyes, “It’s still a child’s drink.”

 

Amelia did not respond to his disapproving remark, instead she placed the carton back in the fridge and propped the glass of milk before him on the counter, “Drink up, buttercup.”

 

The God of Mischief sighed, his chest reminding him at once that he was in no place to argue; his pride could be knocked down a peg for drinking a beverage that was meant only for young ones, but it would be worth it if Amelia was correct in her belief that it would heal his scorching throat.

 

He drank half the glass in the first few gulps, feeling how it sent a soothing cold down his throat, pushing the fire down into the pit of his stomach, and then he savoured the creamy taste in his mouth for a few moments, relishing a taste he had not experienced since childhood.

 

That was just the way it had been on Asgard. Those who drank milk were thought of as children, even the _children_ would bitingly call each other _‘milk-drinkers’_ if they saw anybody drinking the stuff. It was inherently linked with the nursing of infants, and thus became known as a liquid that only the young and immature would imbibe.

 

Loki guzzled down the rest of the cup’s contents, delightfully finding that his fiery symptoms had disappeared almost immediately, and he looked to Amelia, only to discover that she was staring heavily at the clock, very much looking to be in a trance-like state.

 

“Tired?” Loki asked, as if it wasn’t completely obvious.

 

Amelia’s concentration on the clock-face was broken, and she looked back to him, blinking once before bursting into a fresh fit of giggles.

 

“What’s so funny?”

 

“You’ve got a milk moustache”, Amelia snickered, pointing to Loki’s upper lip, which he quickly wiped with the sleeve of his nightshirt. “Anyway, how do you feel now? Did it work?” She was already smiling, because she already knew the answer.

 

Loki shrugged, peering down at his empty cup, “Alright, you were correct. My throat is no longer burning.”

 

Amelia looked as victoriously as her groggy face would allow, “Next time you have a problem with my cooking, do speak up. I don’t expect you to enjoy absolutely everything I cook, and that’s okay. We all have different tastes and tolerances, so I wouldn’t take it personally.”

 

Loki smiled faintly and nodded his head, leaning his elbow on the counter as he slumped slightly. “So, what thoughts kept you awake tonight?”

 

Amelia’s gaze travelled briefly back to the clock, a knit in her stare that Loki could not decode, before she shook her head slightly, “I don’t know. I don’t think there’s a big chance my father left me anything in his will, but I want to go back to my childhood home.”

 

Loki’s mouth fell open in surprise, “You want to go _back?”_

 

“Not to _live_ there!” Amelia hurriedly clarified, “I mean, I want to go there and just… snoop through his belongings, see if I can find any old pictures of mum or Aaron… see if I can find any _else_ that might be important to me.”

 

Loki was quiet and contemplating. It was not surprising that Amelia would want to seek out answers to the many questions she had, to find out whether her father was hiding anything, or whether he was simply an asshole. Or both. Loki knew if it was possible to rifle through his mother’s belongings one last time, he would most certainly want to keep the items she treasured most, plus all of the many spell books she kept.

 

“I was thinking maybe… in the next few weeks, I could take some time off work, and…” she sighed, shrugging her shoulders faintly as her eyes once again flickered to the clock, “have a little vacation to New Jersey… I wouldn’t wanna stay at the house though, too many bad memories. I’d probably stay at a nice hotel. And I wouldn’t want to go alone”, she said the last few words quietly, pausing to look imploringly at Loki so that he could put together the pieces of her unworded question.

 

Loki’s eyebrows rose. A change of scenery sounded enjoyable, and he would never miss out on the chance to find out more about Amelia’s past; the god nodded his head in agreement.

 

“I would gladly accompany you.”

 

Amelia’s face lit up and she chewed her lip, her countenance expressing a world of thanks, and then, without a hint of subtlety, she looked once again to the clock; it was beginning to baffle Loki - she must’ve looked to the clock ten times in the past two minutes. What was so special about the time? It was the very early morning, nothing interesting about it.

 

“Why do you keep staring at the clock?”

 

There was a sort of sheepish, wistful look in Amelia’s dark brown eyes, and she gnawed on her bottom lip in a way that seemed rather ruffled, but at the same time, her lips were curling up into a smile. Loki didn’t know what to think.

 

“Heh… well”, Amelia swallowed, blinked slowly, and spoke softly, “In a few minutes, it’ll be three o’clock in the morning… and it’ll mark exactly one year since we met.”

 

It took several moments for her words to sink in.

 

One year. It had been one full year since Loki and Amelia had met in the cold graveyard, standing in front of her brother’s grave. It had not only been a huge turning point in Amelia’s life, but it had been the trigger for a vast change in Loki’s own perspective on his existence.

 

He could hardly believe it. Time had gone so fast, it felt like only yesterday they had shared the first conversation.

 

It had gone by like a blink. An entire _year_ had gone by in the snap of a finger, and somehow so much had changed, so much had happened.

 

Loki couldn’t imagine where he would be now if he had never met the woman before him, and he didn’t dare think about it - it would have been a far crueler reality, no doubt.

 

Too quickly. Time had poured away _too_ quickly, and Loki hated that fact. He hated that a year had passed by already, and that it was unlikely that he’d have the privilege to spend more than another sixty years together with Amelia.

 

This was the drawback of falling in love with a human. Amelia’s life was fleeting in relation to his own, and he needed to cherish his time with her while he still could, to appreciate what he was given.

 

“Are you alright? You look anxious”, Amelia spoke, a deep frown pulling at her face. His reaction probably hadn’t been what she expected.

 

Loki stammered, “I… I didn’t realise. It went so quickly…”

 

Amelia reached forward, laying her hand over his own on the countertop, “It’s alright, I didn’t expect you to remember the exact day - you’ve been distracted and had a lot on your mind… plus, you were in a coma for a month and a half, so I can’t fault you for forgetting”, she smiled, having misinterpreted the panic whirling behind his eyes.

 

Loki shook his head, “It’s gone so _quickly”,_ he stood up straight, reaching Amelia in two small steps before scooping her up tightly in a firm hold. He held her body flush against his own, carding gentle fingers through her hair as she relaxed against him. “I don’t want it to go quickly. I want it to _slow down.”_

 

“Hey”, Amelia spoke so softly, her drowsy voice like silky blankets despite being muffled against his shirt, and it was enough to calm him, drawing his attention down to her face. She was smiling sweetly, her hand finding its way to cradle the back of his neck, and she tilted her head back, “C’mere.”

 

It was an invitation to kiss her.

 

At the threat of having another unforeseen interruption, Loki did not waste any time; he brought his mouth to hers without another second to spare, pushing his tongue past her lips to taste her as he used to, so long ago now that it was almost like a dream. And this kiss now - it was a wish come true. He poured his heart into it, showing Amelia how much he had missed her, and how much he had longed to share this affection with her once more. Amelia was just as enthusiastic, despite her tiredness, but it was clear that the late hour affected her coordination, because her movements were a tad sloppy and languid. It had no bearing on how much Loki enjoyed being pressed up against her, mapping out the inside of her mouth with his tongue, and he practically squeezed her with delight.

 

From the soft noises and sighs escaping Amelia, Loki could tell she had missed this just as much as he had.

 

They parted suddenly, and words fell from Loki’s mouth before he even realised it, “I love you, Amelia”, he cupped her face, their eyes connecting profoundly, and then they were kissing again, but this time, Amelia’s mouth was open in a wide smile. Still, Loki continued to kiss her, despite the fact that it was far more difficult as Amelia’s mirth grew. When she began to giggle, Loki was forced to pull back and wait it out. All he wanted to do was kiss her, over and over and over again.

 

“Loki”, Amelia laughed, her eyes shut tight as tears sprung to the corners, “Loki, I love you too.”

 

In that moment, Loki felt his previous fears diminish. In that moment, Loki felt as though their love would last forever. In that moment, Loki felt happier than he had in a long while.

 

“Loki, Loki-” Amelia sounded breathless from her elation, “Let’s dance, love.”

 

“Dance?” He wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly, “You want to dance? It’s 3am.”

 

“Yes, and there’s no better time to dance!”

 

“We haven’t any music.”

 

“Tony has music!” Amelia argued, and then grabbed Loki’s hand, leading him out of the kitchenette area and towards the more open area with the plush carpet beneath their feet, “Hey, Friday”, she regarded the household A.I, “play _Dancing in the Moonlight_ by Toploader.”

 

The A.I did not question Amelia’s request to play music at an ungodly hour of the morning, instead she simply complied, and soon enough the room was filled with zealous, energetic instruments, followed by strong, deep vocals.

 

_‘We get it almost every night, when that moon is big and bright, it’s a supernatural delight. Everybody dancing in the moonlight’,_ the vocalist sang, and Amelia began to move and sway in time to the music, her motions very silly and oh so endearing all at once. A fresh wave of fondness rolled over Loki like a tsunami, and for once in his life, he did not care that he would look ridiculously stupid, for there was no one around but him and the woman he loved - so he danced with her, laughing and moving in similarly senseless ways. This was what Amelia called dancing, so he went along with it, remaining close to her the whole time, even twirling her a few times, appreciating the beautiful tone in which the song was sang, until the very last note flowed through the room.

 

When it was over, Amelia was asleep on her feet, slumped against Loki’s chest and snoozing with a delighted smile on her face. It was a much deserved slumber.

 

Loki carried her out of the lounge quarters and down the hallway; when he was steps away from the elevators, his spine tingled with alertness and his eyes narrowed on the figure heading towards them. He stopped, staring back at Steve Rogers, who was clearly dressed for bed and carrying an empty water flask, and the blond man also slowed to a stop, giving sleepy Amelia a curious glance before helpfully moving to press the button to call the lift. The steel doors pinged open and Loki gave the Captain an extended stare, stepping into the elevator.

 

“Which floor?”

 

“Six”, Loki answered.

 

Steve hit the floor button, and Loki nodded his head in thanks, prompting a very slight smile to appear on the Captain’s face. He nodded back, stepping out, and the elevator doors closed.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song reference: Dancing in the Moonlight by Toploader.
> 
> FINALLY GOT AROUND TO THAT KISS, EH? :')
> 
> GUYS, I KNOW I SAY IT A LOT BUT I LOVE YOU GUYS AND ALL YOUR COMMENTS/FEEDBACK! <3 
> 
> Please know that your support makes these updates possible. I'm so lucky to have you all as my readers :)
> 
> The next chapter will be a long one, and thus will probably take a couple weeks to come out, but I hope that it will be worth the wait. There's gonna be a change of scenery and we'll take a trip into Amelia's childhood home! ;)
> 
> I love you all. Please leave me a comment - it makes me incredibly happy! :3


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your patience. I know it's been quite a bit longer than my usual time in between updates, but I have had very little time to actually write - literally like only two days out of the week, I'm able to write, and they're my only days off work so I try to relax at the same time.
> 
> Not to mention, throughout writing this one, I kept typing out scenes and then deleting them because this little voice in my head was like "why are u writing this scene. not relevant at all. delete it." so I was constantly editing in real time.
> 
> I hope an 11k+ chapter can satisfy all your Chrysanthemums needs :P Please enjoy!

Tony seemed most ecstatic over the fact that Amelia had decided to take a vacation from work, so ecstatic that he even declared he would pay for her and Loki’s entire trip, from accommodation to travel to dining. Amelia tried vehemently to refuse the billionaire’s kind gesture, stating that she would feel bad letting him cover the cost, but Tony was very persuasive in that he only needed to remind Amelia just how rich he was for her to relent - plus, he insisted she think of it as an early Christmas present if it made her feel better.

 

“Anyone would think you’re trying to get rid of us”, Loki spoke blankly in response to Tony’s enthusiasm to provide the expenditure.

 

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’m just happy Amelia is finally giving herself a  _ break”,  _ the look Tony gave Amelia was quite pointed, “you work too much, kid. And coming from me, that’s saying something, because  _ I  _ work too much.”

 

Amelia was mildly embarrassed by his observation, and shook her head in disagreement, “Come on, you work way much more than I do-”

 

“Yeah, but I have the sense to take a little holiday when I feel the stress is getting to me. When’s the last time you took a vacation, kid?”

 

Bruce chose that moment to interject as he passed by the couch where the group was situated, returning to his seat with a mug of coffee in hand. “Your idea of a holiday is working on your personal projects instead of your company projects, though.”

 

“Shush. Answer me, kid.” Tony said good-naturedly, a knowing smile on his face.

 

Amelia pursed her lips. It had been a while since her last vacation, she hadn’t missed a day of work, save for the occasional illness, since a short while after her brother passed away; the consequences of her grief had compelled her to become a workaholic, pushing herself to do the same thing almost every day for several years in order to create a distraction from her depression.

 

Her last holiday had also been, incidentally, to her home state of New Jersey, where she had spent some time visiting her childhood friend, Dawn. In that time away from home, Amelia had received the news about her brother.

 

It was entirely possible that the occurrence had instilled a sort of aversion to leaving her habitual living environment, and thus was the reason she had been so reluctant to take another holiday since.

 

Her lack of an answer must have spawned concern in those around her, because the humour dissipated from Tony’s face, and Loki’s hand made its way to her arm in a silent enquiry.

 

Amelia urged a small smile to her face, “Sorry, uhh… yeah, it’s been a while since I last went away. I don’t like to be away from home.”

 

Instead of pressing, Tony nodded his head, “Ya see! That’s what I mean! This vacay your taking is gonna be well deserved, and if I can help it - which I can - you’re gonna be spoiled rotten. I’m thinking five-star hotel, penthouse suite, prepaid room service, limo travel to any location, on-sight spa, oh, and it has to be a room with a good view, too-” Midway through his list of necessities, he’d pulled out his digital tablet to search the internet for hotels that matched said description.

 

“Tony”, Amelia cut him off tightly, “there is absolutely  _ no  _ way I’m gonna let you pay  _ that much  _ for  _ my  _ vacation. Please don’t choose the most expensive options available. We don’t need a penthouse suite. We don’t need _ anything _ that luxurious.”

 

A beat of silence followed, and Loki turned his head to stare at Amelia for a few moments before murmuring, “I want a penthouse suite.”

 

“We don’t need a penthouse suite.” Amelia reiterated without taking her gaze off of Tony.

 

Tony nibbled his lower lip thoughtfully, before nodding his head, a boyish grin appearing on his face, “No penthouse suite. Understood. Leave it to me, kid.”

 

When Amelia and Loki arrived at the lavish five-star hotel a few weeks later, Amelia was vaguely chagrined to find out that Tony had booked the reservation, not in the  _ penthouse  _ suite, but in the  _ presidential  _ suite, which was just as expensive anyway.

 

It was difficult for her to be grumpy over the fact when Amelia first walked into their designated living quarters and quickly took in the size and furnishings, but she certainly tried her hardest to keep the disapproving expression on her face. It was ridiculous how opulent and fancy the suite was. It was absurdly large - the main area was filled with too many sofas and armchairs, a big television, a few dining tables and a bar, plus there was plenty of space to do aerobic gymnastics if Amelia so pleased.

 

Loki wandered off, exploring the vast area and many rooms available to them, while Amelia simply stood in place, horrified at what Tony must have paid for this. It was just unnecessarily grand, and the price easily could have smashed through tens of thousands, much to Amelia’s mortification. 

 

“What the fuck, Tony?” She whispered under her breath.

 

“The bedroom’s through here, darling.”

 

Amelia sighed and worried her lower lip between her teeth, slowly stepping further into the suite in an effort to follow Loki’s voice. After experimentally peering through several doors and calling out to her lover, Amelia finally found Loki reclined on an impossibly large bed in a beautifully decorated room.

 

The God of Mischief had kicked off his shoes and climbed into the centre, lying back against the plump pillows like a king who was poised and ready to be fed grapes straight from the vine. He appeared very satisfied, stretching out across the expanse of the mattress in all directions.

 

“This bed is adequate”, Loki spoke, somehow sinking further into the cosy-looking pillows, and Amelia let out a breathy laugh.

 

“Adequate? Is that all? I bet you didn’t have memory-foam mattresses on Asgard.”

 

Loki’s eyebrows furrowed briefly, clearly struggling to figure out what memory-foam was, and then gave a huff, “The bed in my chambers on Asgard was piled with various animal furs, and it was very soft, I’ll have you know.”

 

Amelia snorted, giving the room a brief perusal. 

 

Not only was there a television in the main room, but there was also one in the bedroom hanging on the wall ahead of the bed, and the idea of snuggling up with Loki in the comfy looking bed while watching a movie that night was just far too inviting. The large windows to one side of the room offered a pleasing view of the city, and the colour scheme of the suite was simply magnificent - royal blue walls, dark brown curtains and wood flooring, with a white rug and white bed sheets - while the balance of furnishings and empty space was ideal. It wasn’t too cluttered or too minimalist, it was just right, and that alone was enough to give the temporary living space an air of enticement.

 

If that wasn’t enough, there was an en suite bathroom with a choice of shower or tub, and Amelia felt her previous qualms melt away to give room to excitement.

 

A smile sprouted on Amelia’s face, and she promptly slipped off her shoes, dropped her handbag, and clambered up onto the bed to settle above Loki, nestling up to him and resting her head on his chest while his arms dutifully enveloped her. The bed was plush, but cuddling up to Loki was ultimately what made it feel warm and safe.

 

* * *

 

It was relatively early in the morning after their first night at the hotel when Amelia rolled out of the extremely comfy bed, away from Loki, even as he reached for her across the blankets and mumbled languidly for her to come back under the covers, and padded sleepily towards the curtains that covered the pleasant view.

 

Loki groaned, “Amelia... we don’t have to get up ye-”

 

_ “Oh my god!” _

 

At Amelia’s loud shriek, Loki was up like a shot, eyes wide and mind alert as he rushed to locate the danger, “What? What is it?” His heart was pumping hard and fast, adrenaline rushing through his veins, and within those few seconds, he was entirely awake, ready to fight despite being dressed in only a pair of night trousers.

 

“It  _ snowed!”  _ Amelia squealed with excitement, throwing the curtains fully open and pointing down below at the white blanket that covered almost everything in sight, “There’s snow everywhere!  _ Ahh!”  _ She sounded far too happy over the fact, and Loki’s vigilance quickly wavered.

 

He stared down at the snow with dismay, rolled his eyes, and slumped back onto the bed, flopping down across it with a subdued whine.

 

“You woke me up for  _ snow?” _ His grumpy response was muffled by the pillows.

 

“Oh, come on! You’re telling me you don’t like snow?” Amelia exclaimed incredulously.

 

Loki detested snow. While the cold did not affect him, the sight of snow did nothing but remind him of his sordid heritage and, more specifically, the day he found out he’d been lied to his entire life. He could see it very clearly in his mind, the moment that frost giant had grabbed his arm, his skin turning the same icy blue as those abhorrent creatures, and the realisation that he was one of them. All the while, the world around him was glacial white and cutting winds.

 

“No”, Loki answered, “I don’t like it. And get away from the window. The whole city can see your undergarments.”

 

Amelia looked down at her state of partial undress and promptly shuffled back to the bed, sheepish and red-faced in a way that was far too gratifying for Loki; she huddled up to his side, pulling the covers back up for warmth, and Loki slung his arm around her and nuzzled against her neck.

 

“Go back to sleep”, Loki sighed. He wanted to take full advantage of the fact that Amelia didn’t have to get up early for work, because lazy mornings were few and far between for them.

 

“I can’t sleep”, Amelia mumbled in return.

 

“Why?”

 

“I dunno. Just can’t.”

 

“Not even on this absurdly soft mattress?”

 

Amelia giggled, “No, still can’t sleep.”

 

Loki inhaled against her skin, his breath tickling Amelia’s neck and causing her to shiver, “You are nervous about returning to your childhood home this afternoon.” It was not a question, but an observation.

 

“Mm.” Amelia gave a murmur of confirmation, not even trying to hide her apprehension.

 

“You needn’t be so nervous. It’s not as if your father will be there.”

 

Amelia rubbed her hand over Loki’s upper arm affectionately as she let out an amused sniffle, “Knowing him, he’ll transcend death and become a ghost just to haunt my ass for all eternity.”

 

Loki’s brow furrowed and he peeked a skeptical eye open, “I very much doubt it, Amelia. It would take an exceptionally strong-willed spirit to escape from the depths of Hel.” There was a sarcastic bitterness to his words that urged a bout of laughter from Amelia’s throat, and Loki smiled at the sound.

 

She grew silent after a few moments and let out a sigh, “It’s not just that, though. I just know going back there is gonna jog some painful memories.” She turned her head to face Loki, a flicker of nerves and sadness passing briefly past her eyes, and Loki gazed back at her through dozy, lidded eyes.

 

“I’ll be with you”, he told her, and pressed a tentative kiss to the corner of her mouth.

 

Amelia’s lips curled up, “I know you will.”

 

It was just after lunch when Loki and Amelia departed the hotel in the sleek, black limo that Stark had offered them; Amelia found great pleasure in staring out the windows at the snow-covered sights, pointing out various locations as places she recognised, while Loki kept his gaze firmly within the spacious vehicle, sipping slowly on the glass of complementary champagne that came with the ride.

 

The closer they drove to Amelia’s old home, the more hurriedly she spoke, notifying Loki whenever they passed an establishment or area that Amelia used to visit often - the shops, a hair salon, the park, the woods and a small lake - all the while, Loki remained quiet but attentive, acknowledging everything she said with either a nod or a verbal indicator.

 

Roughly twenty-five minutes into the limo ride, Amelia fell silent. Her lack of chatter was noticeable as it happened very suddenly, and Loki’s hand grazed her thigh in an unspoken question; Amelia turned her head away from the window and forced a smile, “We’re almost there. It’s just round the corner, and, uh… we just passed the home of my old friend”, the smile fell and a troubled look replaced it, “I don’t know if she still lives there. It’s been about six years since I last saw her…”

 

Loki was quiet for a moment, “You want to see her?”

 

Amelia’s face creased in anxiety and she shook her head, “I- I don’t know… I don’t think I could face her...” Loki squeezed her thigh, nodding his head faintly.

 

“Very well.”

 

The neighbourhood that the vehicle proceeded to pull into was very quaint, and showcased a handful of moderately-sized, ornate houses, a few of which had children playing in the gardens, running through the snow with wide smiles on their faces. The appearance of a limo down their road was clearly unnatural, because they all turned to stare at the vehicle as it passed, and Loki was thankful for the tinted windows.

 

He didn’t really want anybody to recognise him while he was away from Manhattan with Amelia as there was a chance it could complicate things and create more stress for her; the last thing Loki wanted was for somebody to ruin Amelia’s vacation by kicking up a fuss about  _ him. _

 

“We have arrived”, the driver announced, and Loki turned to look out the window Amelia was staring through. The house she’d locked her gaze upon was picturesque, even in the snowy backdrop; the outward appearance made for an attractive home, with white panelling and dark grey roof tiles, and from where Loki was sat, he could see the front door nestled between two protruding areas of the house that had clear windows on each wall. There was an upper part of the house with smaller windows and a balcony, and a chimney to top it all off.

 

Amelia seemed to be stuck in contemplation, but when the driver opened the door for her, she was pulled from her reverie, and tentatively shuffled forwards, out of the limo and into the chill of the air. Loki followed after her, pulling up the hood of his coat with extra precaution, not only to keep prying eyes away from his face, but to also keep the snow from dusting the top of his dark hair.

 

“Just like I remember.” Amelia uttered quietly.

 

She stepped forward, pushing open the gate of the white picket fence that surrounded the property, and wandered through the snow, ambling within the concealed borders of the curving path by memory, until she reached the wooden stair that led up to the entranceway.

 

“Do you have a key?” Loki enquired as he followed after her.

 

Amelia turned her head to him, lips parted, “Nope.”

 

“Then how do you expect us to get into the house?” 

 

Loki raised his eyebrows, watching as Amelia smiled and winked. She took one stride to the right of the small stair and squatted down, reaching under the decking to procure a modestly-sized rock.

 

“You intend to smash the window with a rock?” Loki declared with underlying incredulity, and a slight air of pride. He knew Amelia enjoyed partaking in a little mischief every once in a blue moon, but he never imagined she would be so quick to decide breaking and entering was the way to go.

 

“What? No!” Amelia squeaked, the tips of her ears turning red. She twisted the rock in her hand and, alas, it was not a rock at all, but a secret container  _ disguised  _ as a rock, which housed a small, silver key.

 

“Oh”, Loki deflated slightly, “I suppose I should’ve known.”

 

Amelia rolled her eyes, shaking her head slightly, and turned back to the front door; she held the key in her hand, her gaze oscillating between the little shiny object and the entrance to the home, until finally she sighed, knowing she couldn’t put it off any longer.

 

“Alright”, she gulped, “Let’s go in. It’s cold out here.”

 

There was as much a chill within the house as there was outside, probably owing to the fact that nobody was home to control the heating, but as always, the temperature had zero effect on Loki. He was more concerned about Amelia, who gave a violent shiver and hugged herself tightly as they stepped into the dim hallway.

 

“Are you warm enough?” he asked, ready to shuck off his coat and drape it around Amelia’s shoulders if she so needed it, but she gave him a faint smile and nodded her head.

 

“Yes”, she responded, “I wasn’t shivering from the cold.”

 

Even Loki had to admit that the house felt plagued. The lights were off, and the only illumination within the home was the late afternoon sun permeating through the closed curtains, too dim to brighten every nook of the hallway. The shadows seemed to reach out from all corners, shifting and writhing in Loki’s peripheral vision, though he was sure that was just his imagination and the setting shifting from blinding white snow to a dark, dank home; it must have been worse for Amelia, for she had the weight of many years of bad memories on her shoulders, on top of everything else.

 

“I know he’s dead, but… it really feels like he’s still here. Watching me.”

 

Amelia’s voice was quiet and meek. Loki moved to her side and took her hand, squeezing to remind her that he was there should she need him; Amelia was evidently appreciative, returning the gesture along with another smile, one that contained a little more confidence.

 

She moved to flip the lightswitch on the wall to her right, and the ceiling light flickered on, bathing the entryway in a warm gleam that instantly banished the crawling darkness. Amelia relaxed somewhat, the luminescence bringing with it a sense of reassurance.

 

Clearing her throat, Amelia gave a nervous little chuckle, “Well, how about a tour? This is the  _ welcoming hallway”,  _ she spoke with an edge of sarcasm to her voice, covering her nerves with a little humour, “-so warm and friendly, don’t you think?”

 

“Terribly so”, Loki answered in kind, his lips curling in amusement.

 

He followed Amelia down the hall, passing a few closed doors, and a few open ones that led to a dining room and a restroom, until they reached what was undoubtedly the lounge. There were two sofas, a three-seater and a two-seater, positioned adjacent, and a small flat television on a stand against one wall, with the fireplace built into the opposite wall; Amelia gravitated immediately to one end of the room where the unattractive, patterned wallpaper was covered with a cluster of framed photographs.

 

Not wanting to crowd Amelia or hover over her shoulder the entire evening, Loki explored the room on his own time, beginning with the large bookshelf beside the television. He browsed the names of the books, finding titles that related to medical professions.

 

“Was your father a doctor, like your brother?” Loki asked curiously, glancing back over his shoulder.

 

“Nah. He was a boring financial advisor”, Amelia replied as she lifted a couple of pictures off the wall. Looking back to Loki, she continued, “Most of those books were for Aaron’s studies. Not sure why my father kept them, to be honest. Probably a conversation starter so that he could show off how successful his son was to whoever visited… not that my father had many visitors.”

 

Loki nodded idly, scanning the books once again, this time picking out a few buzzwords like ‘finance’ and ‘banking’. There were no works of fiction - it was all related to bland occupations, all fact-based guides and such; Loki twisted his lips in dissatisfaction - the sight of the bookcase had sparked an urge to swipe some new reading material, but there was nothing of interest or value for Loki here. It seemed Alexander Avery was truly as tedious and dull a person as Amelia had claimed, which meant that Amelia must have inherited her bright imagination and love of fiction from her mother.

 

Loki resumed his perusal of the room. He pulled back the curtains, letting more natural light into the room, and his eyes fell to the snowy state of the backyard. The blanket of white was untouched, creating a satisfyingly smooth surface across the lawn, and in the centre of the large garden, there was a lone oak tree. A rope swing hung from one of the thick branches, motionless, with a dusting of white on the wooden seat.

 

Despite the snow, the garden looked peaceful.

 

“Wow”, Amelia murmured as she approached his side, and pressed her face to the sliding door, “That looks pretty. Perfect scene for a snowball fight.” Her eyes flickered to him impishly, the query hanging unspoken in the air, and Loki quirked an eyebrow.

 

“I do not like the sound of that.”

 

“Aw, come on. What do you have against snow?” The petulant pout on her face was comical, but the subject matter was a sore spot for Loki, so his lips twisted in annoyance and he shook his head.

 

“I don’t need a reason to hate it. Just drop it.” He stepped away from the back door, moving across the room to examine the framed photos Amelia had been inspecting.

 

“Alright, grumpy”, Amelia teased, but didn’t press the issue, “I’m gonna have a look upstairs, see if I can find any of my brother’s old stuff.”

 

Loki dipped his head in acknowledgement, “Call me if you need me.”

 

She spoke an appreciative affirmation as she disappeared through a door, the sound of her creaking footsteps discernible as she climbed the old, squeaky staircase. Loki kept his hearing sharp as he assessed the wall of neatly arranged photographs.

 

Amelia had removed three of the seven photos from the wall and placed them on a nearby surface, presumably to take them with her when they left the house, and it was clear to Loki why she hadn’t touched some of them. The remaining photos, encased in wooden, black frames, were a few old family photos - it was easy enough for Loki to guess that the depicted stern man with pursed lips could only be Amelia’s deceased father.

 

Amelia had mentioned that her father had been sixty years old when he died, but in the photos he looked to be in his late thirties. There were a couple of basic group pictures, an image with Amelia’s parents together, and another with her father and brother, but Loki’s eyes were drawn immediately to one of the group photos - Amelia was very small, maybe four or five years old, and her mother was carrying her, balanced on her hip.

 

“You never told me your mother’s name”, Loki called out, suddenly realising he had no name to match the face. It wasn’t exactly surprising given that Amelia rarely talked about her mother, lest she were to become lost in a sea of solemn nostalgia.

 

“Her name was Alaina!” Amelia called back, her voice slightly muffled.

 

“Alaina”, Loki repeated tentatively, observing the image closely.

 

Alaina was beautiful, her face soft and loving, and her smile was warm; Loki could clearly see that Amelia shared most of her mother’s physical features, including the brown eyes and dimples in her cheeks, and not to mention the bright, brilliant grin. The young Amelia in the image clinged to her mother and stared ahead with a mixture of confusion and boredom on her face, much to Loki’s amusement.

 

Alexander stood beside Alaina, his hands resting on young Aaron’s shoulders, who was positioned in front of him. Aaron and Alexander looked strikingly similar, both sharing many physical qualities such as the slightly tan skin, neat brown hair, glasses, and the distinct blue hue of their eyes. The only difference being that Alexander’s gaze was piercing and his brow was furrowed, giving him a perpetually mean look, while Aaron’s eyes were wide and gave him a more approachable look.

 

While Alexander did not look very friendly, it was not immediately obvious that the man was an emotionally abusive bastard, and due to Alaina’s smiling face, Loki inferred that she probably hadn’t been aware of the treatment Amelia received from her father.

 

It was upsetting, looking into four-year-old Amelia’s eyes and seeing naive innocence whilst knowing that this small girl was going to go through so much misery and heartbreak throughout her life. But at the same time, Loki knew that if he was ever given the chance, he wouldn’t dare change anything Amelia had been through. Everything she’d experienced in her life brought her to this point, brought her to  _ him,  _ and she was happy now.

 

_ She was happy now, right? _

 

Loki frowned, abandoning the wall of photos to find the staircase - he ascended the steps, each stair creaking loudly as he moved, and headed to the first door which was left ajar; peering in, he found Amelia sat by a single bed, searching through a box full of papers, with several other boxes strewn around her.

 

“Are you looking for anything in particular?” Loki enquired, glancing curiously around the room.

 

“Just photos, things like that, not finding much though”, she shook her head with a sigh, pushing the box aside to peer under the bed again, “this is my brother’s old room. He used to take a lot of photos, and I’m sure he kept them in an album…” her head reappeared, a scrunched up look on her face, “sure is dusty under here.”

 

“What would this album look like? Perhaps I can help you find it.”

 

Amelia sat up straight, “Uh, well, I think it was about this big-” she held her hands up in comparison, miming the presumed size of the book, “and it’d be pretty thick too. The cover is dark red, and it’s got this embossed gold pattern around the edge.”

 

Loki nodded, turning to look around the room slowly, scanning for any sign of the aforementioned book. There was a chest of drawers, a wooden trunk, a desk, another bookcase - many places the album could be secreted within or behind; Loki’s immediate instinct was to survey the bookcase.

 

“I’ve already checked there”, Amelia spoke up as he made to step towards it, “Actually, I was worried that my father might’ve gone through Aaron’s stuff after he died, and moved it. It might be in his room…” She seemed perturbed at the idea of stepping foot in her father’s room, evident by the way she began to wring her hands in a twitchy fashion.

 

“Would you like me to search there?” Loki offered, and Amelia nodded diffidently, “Which room is his?”

 

“It’s the room at the end of the hall”, she made an aborted gesture with her hand, pointing briefly towards the door, “thanks, Loki.”

 

Loki nodded. He left the room and travelled to the very end of the hall, quirking an eyebrow as he came to  _ two  _ doors instead of one; instead of calling out to Amelia for her to clarify, he simply picked one, figuring that through process of elimination, he would find the right room very quickly.

 

He stepped into the room on the right and paused. Unless Amelia’s father had an affinity for the colour pink, he had most definitely chosen the wrong room; the walls were fuschia, the carpet was magenta, and the curtains were… yellow. The atrocity of brightness could only imply one thing - he had walked into Amelia’s old room.

 

Loki hesitated, looking back over his shoulder down the hall before choosing to enter, his curiosity getting the better of him. Upon flicking the lightswitch, he noticed room looked mostly as though it had been cleared out, with bare shelves, a sparse bookcase and dusty surfaces, plus there was a cluster of closed cardboard boxes in the corner piled up. The wall by the bed was covered with posters and clippings, almost to the point where there was no wall left to be seen, and Loki cocked his head at the many multiple images of the same man - long blond hair, blue eyes and a fair face. He was pretty, ominously so for a Midgardian man, and Loki would not have batted an eyelid if it weren’t for the fact that the pictures of him were covered with little  _ heart  _ doodles.

 

Who was this man? Why was his face plastered all over Amelia’s childhood bedroom wall?

 

Fighting the urge to tear them down, Loki huffed and turned his attention to the boxes, curious of what they contained. He knelt beside one and carefully opened it up, finding nothing but educational texts and school books -  _ boring  _ \- so he moved it aside and opened up another, telling himself that his snooping was reasonable, given the fact there was perhaps a chance he might find Aaron’s missing album hidden amongst the clutter.

 

Loki pulled out a small velvet pouch and emptied its contents into his palm. He quirked an eyebrow as a little ring rolled out, and inspected it more closely; it was silver in colour, a white jewel as its centrepiece, but unpolished and grimy, and Loki concluded that it was not intrinsically valuable, nor did it hold any sentimental value, otherwise it wouldn’t be dumped in a storage box. 

 

Nevertheless, Loki wondered who had given it to her.

 

He dug into the box again, shifting odds and ends aside, and picked out a wooden box that had a small knob on the side; he twisted the protrusion and it appeared to click with each full rotation, clearly doing something, but Loki did not know what.

 

After a few moments of nothing happening, Loki lifted the little golden latch and opened the box up, only to flinch slightly at the sudden melodic notes of music that emanated from within; the tune was gentle and lighthearted, lulling almost, and Loki listened to it play, staring at the slowly rotating pink heart within.

 

The music instilled a sense of calm, reminding Loki of small waves rolling across the ocean, or a Spring breeze blowing through fresh leaves on every tree branch. It was pleasant to listen to.

 

“This definitely isn’t my father’s room.”

 

Loki glanced sheepishly over his shoulder, finding Amelia standing at the entrance to the room with her arms crossed, and a strained smile on her face.

 

“I’m sorry”, Loki told her, knowing he really didn’t have a good excuse for nosing through Amelia’s old things, “I was curious.” 

 

Amelia took a few steps towards him, motioning for him to hand over the music box with her outstretched hands; he did so without hesitation, rising to stand beside her as she examined the object with a wistful look, and tentatively closed the lid, bringing the music to a stop.

 

“Mum used to let this music box play while she read to me.”

 

A beat of silence. “Why didn’t you bring it with you when you moved to Manhattan?” Loki enquired, a frown pulling at his face. Amelia had a propensity for hanging onto objects that held significance, and this item definitely seemed to fall into such a category.

 

Amelia’s mouth twitched, her lips curling downwards, and she moved to empty out the cardboard box that was filled with school papers, placing the music box within to bring it along with her, “I left it by accident. Placed it in the wrong box, and by the time I noticed, it was too late to come back… I didn’t want to come back. Not while my father was still here.”

 

The more Amelia spoke of her father, the more Loki wanted to find a way to magically resurrect the man just so he could stab him in the heart. Multiple times. Loki found himself hoping that Alexander Avery had died alone and in tremendous pain, because he had to have been exceptionally abominable in order to inspire fear in Amelia. She was a brave, strong woman, able to stand up for herself even when her emotions plagued her, even when she was afraid, so her father must have been truly diabolical for Amelia to refuse to return and retrieve something she cherished.

 

Amelia had never really expanded on the treatment she had received from her father. Loki knew bits and pieces, but Amelia had never gone into explicit detail.

 

“What did he do to you, Amelia?” Loki breathed, knowing full well that he would only be enraged by the truth. But he couldn’t let his imagination fill in the blanks any longer, he needed to know exactly what Amelia had been through.

 

Amelia shook her head, smiling joylessly, “We don’t have all night, Loki. There’s quite an extensive list.” Her humour covered her apprehension, but Loki remained silent, urging Amelia to divulge her troubles with a meaningful look.

 

She sighed, her gaze dropping to the floor where she knelt. “Well”, she began rigidly, “When I was seven years old, I watched Star Trek for the first time, and it made me want to be an astronaut”, the embarrassed smile on her face was short-lived, “...and I remember being obsessed with space for weeks. I made drawings of spaceships, I watched tv shows about the universe, anything space-related, I was into it. And then, one day my father told me I couldn’t  _ be  _ an astronaut, because I wasn’t smart enough.”

 

Amelia paused. “Actually, he didn’t put it like that. He said I was a stupid child with stupid dreams. After that, I stopped finding enjoyment in science-fiction.”

 

The admission filled Loki with anger, as he had expected it would, and he clenched his jaw tightly to manage his rage.

 

“Then, when I was eleven, some sports athlete came to my school to give a motivational talk, encouraging us all to pursue sporty careers. So, I decided I wanted to be a gymnast. When my father found out about that, he told me I couldn’t be a gymnast because I was too fat”, Amelia’s fists clenched tightly in her lap, making her knuckles whiten. She continued to speak without hesitation, “When I was fifteen, I wanted to be a singer. My father said I wasn’t pretty enough. Only pretty people can be famous singers.”

 

Loki reached for Amelia’s hand, taking it comfortingly in his own, and calmed himself inwardly so as not to seethe so openly as he spoke, “Every time you acquired ambition, he shattered your dreams, and he had the gall to reprimand you for not being as successful as your brother? Why? Why did he treat you like that?”

 

Amelia huffed with dry amusement, running her fingers distractedly across the back of Loki’s hand, “That’s why I’m here. I want to know why”, she muttered, “I’m  _ looking  _ for the reason as to why he hated me so much.”

 

Loki felt his teeth grind together. A bad feeling overcame him, because he knew surely that whatever Amelia found, whatever reason presented itself, it would not end well. She would only become upset again, and Loki hated seeing her that way.

 

But he knew he wouldn’t be able to convince her not to search the house from top to bottom in order to discover Alexander’s motive for his animosity.

 

Something else continued to bother Loki. “Why did you never tell your mother?”

 

Amelia’s gaze fluttered aimlessly for a moment, indecisive of where she wanted to look, “He… he was… good to my mum, and Aaron… he treated them like he loved them. My mum was always so happy, and she loved my father… and he loved her. And my young, stupid mind figured that I was the one with the problem. I didn’t tell her because I didn’t want to ruin her happiness…”

 

Loki’s pinning stare was unwavering, incredulity shining in his eyes, and he drew in a breath, “You’ve always been such a kind and selfless person. It amazes me, Amelia. But you must be brimming with anger and frustrations”, his lips twitched into a ghost of a smile, “you should try getting violent every once in a while.”

 

Amelia blinked, her face morphing into a very dubious expression, “Don’t be silly, Loki.”

 

“I am being entirely serious. You need to let those emotions out one way or another.”

 

“That’s what crying is for.”

 

_ “Crying _ is not nearly as fun.”

 

“Just… shh”, Amelia uttered, shaking her head decisively as she held up a silencing hand, “I’m coping, okay? Now help me look for that damn album.” She had become churlish upon reminding herself of the torment she suffered as a child, and Loki would rather she didn’t leave the room in such a huff with him.

 

He grabbed the arm before she could move to stand. “Wait. Who got you this ring?” He held up the jewel-embellished silver band, expressing nothing but curiosity, and Amelia landed him with a long, skeptical look before breathing a sigh.

 

“That was a gift. From my boyfriend when I was seventeen”, she spoke plainly.

 

“Oh?” Loki’s eyebrows rose, eyeing the small piece of jewelry, “Tell me more.”

 

“There’s not much to say.”

 

“Obviously there’s a story if he gave you this ring”, Loki argued, rolling the object in his palm with the tips of his fingers - it was far too tiny to fit even on his smallest finger, and probably too small to fit on any of Amelia’s fingers now - and the clear specks in the grime glinted infrequently in the light of the room.

 

“You know that’s not a valuable ring, right? It was like twenty dollars tops”, she seemed unimpressed by the memory, which was probably why the ring was tucked away in a pointless cardboard box at the back of her old room, “His name was Michael, he was a cute blond nerd, and he was… nice…” her lips twisted into an awkward pucker, “but the more time we spent together, the more I realised he was really just trying to get laid. Got me the ring to try and butter me up. Not the kind of guy I was after.”

 

Loki slipped the ring back into the pouch and tossed it back into the cardboard box, “You like blond men, then?” He didn’t mean for the question to sound so stiff as he was only being partially serious, but Amelia’s inspired snort of amusement managed to put him in a somewhat touchy mood; he angled his gaze towards the wall that was plastered with images of the long-haired blond man, “I’m sorry I can’t have beautiful golden locks like  _ him.” _

 

This time, Amelia let out a giggle, followed by a sudden squawky laugh as she followed his gaze; Loki’s keen expression softened in response. “That’s Legolas from Lord of the Rings”, Amelia informed, snickering from behind her hand, “All the ladies love him.”

 

_ “That’s  _ Legolas?” Loki had read the books some time ago, and now he looked upon the movie’s visualisation of the character with cynicism, “I had not imagined him to be so… effeminate.”

 

“They made him much more intimidating in the Hobbit movies”, Amelia spoke, “But anyway, let's not discuss my teenage obsession with a fictional character. I’m glad you don’t have blond hair, by the way. No offense, but you’d look like Viserys Targaryen.”

 

Loki’s nose scrunched up in disgust, “Do not  _ ever _ compare me to that contemptible swine of a character ever again.”

 

Amelia did not hide her amusement, her mouth stretching into a grin, and she shrugged apologetically, apparently not at all contrite that she had dared likened Loki to such a gross, awful character. She shifted and stood, stretching her limbs for a moment before exploring the room a little more.

 

“So since you asked me about a past relationship, I want to ask you something.”

 

“Yes?” Loki prompted.

 

“How many people have you been with?”

 

Loki blinked once, twice. “Why do you need to know that?” 

 

“I don’t need to know, I just wanna know. Curiosity, is all.”

 

Loki sighed, nodding his head contemplatively, and Amelia stared at him over her shoulder, growing more and more confused with every passing moment Loki remained silent.

 

“Well?” She asked.

 

Loki shrugged, “I don’t know.”

 

“You don’t  _ know?”  _ Amelia parroted with a surprised squeak, “Come on, you gotta have some inkling?”

 

Loki genuinely did not know, there were far too many insignificant and meaningless shags for him to have counted them all. He’d never really had a fling with anybody that lasted more than a couple weeks, and there was nothing particularly special about any of them.

 

“Come on”, Amelia urged, a wary smile on her face, “ten people? Fifteen?”

 

“It’s in the hundreds”, Loki clarified, and watched as Amelia’s jaw dropped comically.

 

“You’ve slept with hundreds of women!?” She squeaked, and Loki frowned.

 

“No”, he said defensively, “I’ve slept with men too.”

 

Amelia performed a double-take, paused with her mouth agape for a few seconds, before shutting her lips, a pink tint forming over her cheeks, “...right. Hundreds is… still a lot…” She cleared her throat, her pouty lips puckering out, and quickly turned away, opening up the drawers at her old desk and pretending to look through them with feigned interest.

 

Loki stood, a mischievous smile once again gracing his lips, “Jealous, love?”

 

“No. Shush.”

 

“You forget, I’m over a thousand years old. Is it really that surprising I’ve been with so many people?” Loki spoke, stepping up behind Amelia and pressing against her back, wrapping her in his arms, “If it’s any consolation, you are the only one I have ever loved.”

 

At the confession, Amelia melted in his embrace, a blossoming smile on her face so vivid regardless of how she tried to hide it; she breathed a warm sigh, holding his arms against her waist, and her neck lulled to the side as Loki dipped his head to lay kisses on her skin. A noise of pleasure escaped her, spurring Loki on, and he latched onto her neck, biting and sucking her flesh, delighting in the way she jolted and shivered in his grasp. One of his hands dragged down lower, squeezing her thigh.

 

“Ah, Loki”, Amelia moaned, “Wait till we get back to the hotel.”

 

Loki breathed over her neck where he’d left a faint purple bruise, “I’ll hold you to that, love.”

 

Amelia relaxed in Loki’s hold, luxuriating in the faint warmth of his body, and cast a glance around her room again, her eyes falling upon her bed, and she gasped suddenly, slipping so rapidly out of the god’s arms that a vague pout appeared on his face. He watched Amelia dislodge a few pink, fluffy cushions from the head of her bed, and then she let out a noise of muffled excitement, pressing her face into the object she had revealed.

 

It was a folded blanket, or what remained of one. Clearly the item had been loved dearly, as it was faded and dulled in colour, with holes and tears in the fabric; Loki frowned as he watched Amelia inhale deeply against the material.

 

“That cannot smell good, love”, he stated. If the blanket had been gathering dust for the past eleven years, there was no way it retained any sort of pleasant scent.

 

“It smells like I remember”, Amelia murmured softly, pulling her face away to inspect the faded cloth, smiling when she pointed out the faint repeated pattern of knitted flowers. “Mmm… when I was a lot younger, mum always read me stories for bedtime, and I was always wrapped up like a burrito in this thing. The smell is comforting.”

 

“That smell is going to give you horrendous dust allergies. Put it down, it’s filthy”, Loki snorted, and then faltered when he saw the look of outrage on Amelia’s face, “You’re not bringing that thing back to Avengers Tower, are you?”

 

Amelia hugged it close to her chest, “Of  _ course  _ I am! This thing is as old as I am. I have a special bond with it, I’ll have you know.” Loki’s response was to make a face. “Didn’t you have a comfort item when you were a kid? Something you were inseparable with?”

 

Loki thought for a moment, humming in consideration. “I suppose. But I was very young. Barely walking and talking.” Immediately, Amelia’s eyes were alight with inquisitiveness, and the god rolled his eyes, “It was a soft toy in the shape of a deer. Crudely stuffed and sewn together, but I liked it, for whatever reason. It went missing one day and was never found. Naturally, I blamed Thor.”

 

Amelia was quiet for a moment, her lips winding into a small smile, “You still think Thor hid it somewhere?”

 

Loki huffed. “Well, where else could it have gone? He obviously did something to it, in order to punish my chaotic behaviour, most likely.”

 

“Chaotic? When you were a baby?” The arch of Amelia’s eyebrows were doubtful.

 

“I’m not the God of Mischief for nothing, darling.”

 

Amelia shook her head, giving a breathless huff of amusement. Her eyes fell again to the blanket in her hands, “I’ll stitch up these holes, give it a wash, and it’ll be good as new.”

 

Loki did not protest a second time, figuring that there was no harm in Amelia keeping an abundance of the objects that held more positive memories from her childhood. Sometimes it was okay to hold on to certain pieces of the past, so long as they sparked favourable emotions over negative ones.

 

Placing the folded blanket down in the cardboard container with the musical box, Amelia hoisted it up and carried it out of the room, placing it down in the hallway so that she would not forget her special items this time around. Loki followed her out, coming face to face with the door that  _ actually  _ led to Amelia’s father’s room.

 

Amelia still seemed hesitant and wary of entering the bedroom; she stood behind Loki, twiddling her thumbs, waiting for Loki to head in first. It did not appear to matter how often she was reminded that her father was dead and no longer able to hurt her, for the invisible marks he left on her would likely be ever-present.

 

“You don’t have to come in”, Loki assured her as he opened the door, pushing it in to reveal a very uncluttered, minimalist style room. The curtains were parted, the bed was stripped of its sheets, every surface was clear and free of dust.

 

Loki took a few steps into the room, glancing around with the intent to seek out Aaron Avery’s photo album, and Amelia followed reluctantly, oscillating below the door frame, trying to make up her mind on whether searching the room for what she wanted to find was worth being in the place her father had occupied only several weeks ago.

 

She made a disgusted noise, drawing Loki’s attention, and quietly murmured, “It smells like him. I hate it.” 

 

Loki couldn’t smell any scents that were particularly unpleasant, but then, he did not possess the bad memories linked to them as Amelia did. “I do not smell anything”, Loki stated, and Amelia shook her head.

 

“Lucky you.”

 

“Why? What did he smell like?”

 

Amelia pondered grimly, “Like brandy... and aniseed.”

 

Loki sniffed the air again, identifying neither of the aforementioned scents, and gave Amelia a dubious look. He was not entirely convinced that it wasn’t all in the woman’s head, but he refused to point that out, knowing it would probably only serve to irritate her, and that was most certainly not what he wanted to do given that she had insinuated a desire for an intimate encounter later in the evening.

 

It had been some time since they’d had sex. He wanted her in a contented mood, which meant he could only rile her up with the  _ good  _ kind of teasing.

 

“Let’s find that album and be off then, shall we?” Loki suggested, rubbing his hands together with purpose, and the two of them set about searching through drawers and in cabinets - anywhere one might think to conceal the special photo book.

 

Midway through Loki’s search of the cabinets opposite the bed, he set his sights on a glass, polished vase sitting atop the wooden surface above. It was oddly shaped and was composed of a complicated mosaic-style pattern, with little golden diamond-shaped embellishments; Loki tilted his head as he examined it.

 

“Is this vase for flowers?”

 

Amelia glanced up from where she was peering below the bed, giving the fancy container only a brief look before going back to the hunt at hand, “No, it’s just decorative. Expensive too, apparently. I tried to touch it once and my father went berserk.”

 

“I see.”

 

Loki resumed his exploration, finding nothing but clothes and pointless trinkets in the drawers; he let out a sigh and tried the wardrobe, pulling it open with the expectation of finding more garments, but instead coming face to face with a large metal container on a shelf. There was a dial on the front, which looked to be like some kind of mechanism - sort of like a miniature vault - but it wasn’t what held his gaze. 

 

There, on top of the small vault, was the book Amelia had described. Dark red in colour, small intricate lines of gold embossed around the edges - it had to be the album Amelia wanted.

 

“Amelia. Is this it?” He picked it up, blowing the dust off the cover, and held it out to her with a furtive look of hope on his face. Really, he just wanted to get back to the hotel so he and Amelia could have some fun.

 

“That’s it!” Amelia exclaimed, almost snatching it in her excitement. She poured through it, quickly flicking through the pages, her eyes growing as radiant as the beaming smile that appeared suddenly on her face. “These photos… oh, they’re all here…”

 

She sounded oddly breathless as she scanned over each page, a culmination of relief and solace, happy to have her older brother’s personal photos back in her possession.

 

“Oh, they’re brilliant”, she squeaked, “I need to show these to you. They’re much better than... the framed pictures... downstairs.” Her eyes had snapped to the closet, landing on the miniature vault with apprehension, prompting her enthusiastic energy to drizzle to a stop. “It’s the safe”, she stated cautiously, placing the photo album safely down on top of the chest of drawers to the right, and then gave the large metal container her full attention.

 

She pulled on the handle latch, puckering her lips in disappointment when it refused to open, “Of course it’s locked. It wouldn’t just be open now, would it?” she mumbled to herself, staring hard at the numbered dial. She looked contemplative for a while, before turning to Loki, an optimistic spark in her brown eyes, “You can unlock things with your magic, right?”

 

Loki frowned, eyes flickering to the safe. “Only if I am familiar with the locking mechanism”, he told her, “this does not look like a regular pin tumbler lock.”

 

“Can you try at least?” Amelia pleaded, intertwining her hands together under her chin in a mock begging gesture.

 

“What exactly do you expect to find in there?” Loki enquired, squinting with slight suspicion.

 

Amelia looked sheepish, “I just… want to know if my father had any secrets. That’s all.”

 

“You mean you want to see if there’s anything in this vault that will help you understand why your father hated you?” Loki’s tone was plain and unimpressed; there was truly not much point in continuing to search through the dead man’s things, and any further discoveries would most likely not be of a positive variety. “You have what you were looking for-” he tapped the hardcover of the photo album, “-so let’s go.”

 

“Loki, please”, her lips folded into a pout, eyes going wide and sheeny in the typical ‘puppy dog eyes’ expression, “please, babe.” She only ever called him  _ babe _ when she was trying to soften him up, and rather irksomely, it always seemed to work.

 

Rolling his eyes, Loki sighed, “Fine. But after this, we’re leaving.”

 

Amelia’s lips twitched into a smile, squashing down the victorious look that threatened to fight its way to her face, and she took a step back, though still eager to witness Loki’s use of magic on the old metal safe. The God of Mischief laid his palm across the numbered dial, and allowed his power to seep in through the gaps in the mechanism, feeling it out till he had a good mental picture in his mind of what the contraption looked like from the inside. It helped to close his eyes, as his magic provided him with a clear facsimile of what he needed to decipher, and after a little trial and error, he got the general gist of what he had to do.

 

After that, it was easy to manipulate the ribbons of green energy to twist the dial into the correct positions.

 

“That was so cool”, Amelia breathed when Loki retracted his hand upon hearing the sound of the mechanism unlocking. “I wish I could do magic. Can you teach me?” The slight curl of her lip revealed that she was poking fun.

 

Loki looked down at Amelia with amused endearment, “If you wish to go through hundreds of years of difficult training owing to the fact that you are just a human.”

 

“Doctor Strange is a human and he didn’t go through hundreds of years of training to learn magic.”

 

The god’s face twitched into a faint glower, “Well. Doctor Strange is not a  _ real _ sorcerer.”

 

“You don’t have to get so defensive”, Amelia winked, smile widening at Loki’s responding look of minor irritation, “anyway, thanks for opening the safe.” Her hand darted out to pull the vault door open, but Loki quickly stopped her, grabbing her wrist firmly.

 

“Wait”, he protested, and then faltered in his speech. He knew what it felt like to be on the cusp of finding out a dark secret that had been kept classified his whole life, and he knew the pain of realising he’d been lied to about something so greatly important. He didn’t want Amelia to go through that very same pain, but he knew he also could not shield her from it; if there were any pieces of evidence that alluded to Alexander Avery’s hatred of Amelia, she had the right to know about it.

 

“Whatever you find”, Loki told her, “just know that it cannot change anything, alright?”

 

It was true, after all. Amelia’s father was dead, along with the rest of her family, and the knowledge of some piece of furtive information could not impact that.

 

Amelia was silent for a moment, contemplative, and then she nodded vaguely; Loki released her hand, and she pulled the thick metal door of the safe open. Peering over Amelia’s shoulder, Loki inspected the contents of the safe, finding many papers and letters, something that looked like a small glass vial, and a leather-bound journal.

 

The first thing Amelia grabbed was the glass vial; she inspected it in her hand, turning it over and running her thumb along the raised lettering on one side. It was empty, the small lid was pink, and it was round in shape.

 

“Mum’s perfume”, Amelia murmured, placing it down on the surface by the photo album, “of course it’s empty though”, she sounded bitter of the fact, and Loki understood why. Just the scent of the fragrance her mother used to wear could revive positive memories, even those inadvertently forgotten.

 

Loki picked up the vial and gave it a brief examination.  _ Magnolia and nectarine.  _ That was the mix of the aroma that had once been contained within. He placed it back down, turning his attention curiously to the masses of papers Amelia was flicking through incisively, the woman’s eyebrows set in a furrow.

 

She let out a huff and dropped the papers to the floor, causing a resounding thud, “Nothing but bank statements… useless…”

 

The final item was the fancy looking journal, and Amelia grabbed it, rotating it in her hand to scrutinise all sides and edges of it before unfastening the binding and opening it up. Her eyes twitched as she flipped through the pages, alternating between flicking through them slowly and skipping pages at a time; she shook her head, growing more and more frustrated as she skimmed the pages.

 

“What is it, Amelia?”

 

“It’s  _ nothing”,  _ the woman snapped, throwing the book down like she had with the papers, except with added force, “Just an address book for his clients! And there’s nothing- nothing else here! I thought there would be something… I thought…” 

 

_ How anticlimactic, _ Loki thought, but at the same time, it was just as he had predicted. The contents of the safe still managed to upset Amelia, regardless of whether she found what she was looking for or not. 

 

The god moved to rest a hand on her shoulder, but Amelia shook it off, her lip trembling, and then she pushed past him altogether, heading for the door. Except she paused before leaving, turning back to the elegant glass vase sitting inconspicuously above the cabinets; a beat of silence followed, and then she approached it in two heavy strides and whacked it off the surface.

 

As it hit the floor and shattered to pieces, Amelia flinched.

 

Loki stared at her, noting her rigid composure and the way she kept her head down and avoided looking at him. “How did that feel?” He enquired, one eyebrow arched.

 

Amelia sniffled. “Not as good as I’d hoped.” Her voice was meek and quiet, and she left the room quickly after, rushing quickly down the hall, her steps evident on the creaky stairs as she descended.

 

“Where are you going?” Loki called out.

 

“I need some air!” Amelia snapped back, anger prominent in her voice.

 

The god breathed a sigh, glancing at the mess Amelia had left in her wake. He’d known something like this was going to happen, he knew Amelia was going to end up in tears; he shouldn’t have opened up the safe for her.

 

Loki grabbed the perfume vial and slipped it into his pocket, and then picked up the photo album, carrying it from the room to place down in the box of assorted memories Amelia intended to take home with her. He left the items for the moment, following the woman downstairs and out through the sliding glass door into the back garden.

 

The perfect blanket of snow had been ruined by Amelia’s angry footsteps the trailed to the base of the oak tree where she now sat, sitting on the swing, swaying back and forth lazily as her gaze burned a hole into the ground at her feet. The sun had mostly set now, bathing the garden in a dim blue hue, and Loki stepped through the abhorrent snow to reach his dismayed lover, trying to think of a way to get her to speak and open up about exactly why she was upset.

 

As he reached her, however, Amelia made it a lot easier for him.

 

“I thought there was gonna be some big secret hidden away in that safe, y’know, like how it is in the movies? I’m such an idiot. There’s no reason, is there? For why he hated him so much? He just- hated me. I don’t know why… I don’t know  _ why.” _

 

Loki expelled a breath, watching as the air formed a mist before his face, “Amelia, it doesn’t matter. Perhaps there was a reason, perhaps there was not, either way, it does not _matter._ What are you searching for exactly? A justification? In what universe would anything justify his actions towards you? Just accept that your father was a horrible person for the sake of it and move on.”

 

Amelia glanced up, eyes watery, “But I need to  _ know!” _

 

“No. You do not. You do not need to know, because it does not matter.”  _ How many times was he going to have to repeat himself?  _ “It was never your fault, Amelia. Understand that. Stop hating yourself because you think it was something  _ you  _ did.”

 

Amelia shook her head, quick to protest, “I don’t-”

 

“I can  _ see _ that you do.” Loki interjected heavily, and then his face softened, “You don’t see that some people are just- are just  _ assholes -  _ because it makes them feel better about themselves. They don’t need a good reason, and nothing can give grounds for their actions. Don’t cling to the possibility that their might have been an explanation for your father’s actions towards you - instead, dwell on the good people in your life. The people who loved you, and the people who love you now”, Loki made a face as though he’d tasted something sour, and then looked away with a roll of his eyes, adding under his breath, “-gods above, I sound like Thor.”

 

Amelia looked away as well, perhaps to hide a teary smile at Loki’s self-observation. She didn’t have much to say in response, but Loki felt her silence reflected her resignation over her odd obsession with finding an excuse for her awful father’s behaviour; she stopped crying, and let herself sway back and forth in the swing.

 

“Your hands are red”, Loki noted, slipping the leather gloves from his own hands and offering them out to her, “Here, put them on.”

 

Amelia looked gratefully up at him, her mouth twitching upwards with appreciation, and she pulled the warmed gloves on. They were just slightly too big for her, as Amelia’s hands were smaller than his.

 

After a few moments of peaceful quiet, Amelia spoke, “You know, I used to swing super high on this thing and then jump off. I’d always try for a new record every time I got on this thing… until eventually, I miscalculated the position of my body during a jump and-”, she paused to sigh, smiling as she shook her head, “I ended up breaking my arm.”

 

Loki’s eyebrows shot up, “How old were you then?”

 

“Only about eight”, Amelia replied, “and I’ll be honest, the following month after that was the best I’ve ever felt here at home. Mum fussed over me the whole time I had my cast on, rarely leaving me alone, which meant that my father didn’t bother me in all those weeks. It felt good to have all that attention, y’know? And whenever I felt like I wasn’t getting enough hugs, or enough dessert, all I had to do was pretend my arm was hurting a whole lot and suddenly I was the centre of mum’s care again.”

 

“Eight-year-old you and eight-year-old me would have been friends”, Loki remarked with a chuckle, “I most certainly pulled off the same kind of stunt several times throughout my childhood. Stealing Thor’s limelight is one of my favourite past times.”

 

Amelia laughed, the glorious string of giggles falling from her lips, bringing ease to Loki; it was clear his words had brought her some comfort, and for that he was glad.

 

The woman’s laughter cut off suddenly, her face growing alarmed as she drew in a sudden breath, looking back towards the house. “Who the fuck is that?” She whispered, and Loki swung round in an instant, his gaze alert as he scanned the space before him for unforeseen intruders.

 

After a moment, he quirked an eyebrow, “I don’t see anybody, Amelia”, he told her plainly, turning back to face her.

 

And promptly received a snowball to the face.

 

Oh, he should have  _ known _ Amelia was up to something. There were always simple tells in her behaviour - he should’ve noticed that her alarm was not genuine, but he’d been too flustered in the moment to really pay attention to it. Big mistake.

 

He scraped the ice from his face with one hand, pinning Amelia with a glare as she scurried away, leaving soft and playful tittering sounds in her wake.

 

“You will pay for that”, Loki threatened, bending down to scoop up a handful of snow with which to mould into a perfect, chilling projectile. He chased after her, and she let out a shriek the moment she realised she was being hunted, but her speed through the shin-high snow was nothing compared to Loki’s.

 

_ “Noooooo-agh-mph!”  _ Amelia cried as Loki trapped her in place with an arm round her waist, and smooshed the snowball into her face, delighting in the way she squealed as the cold ice pressed against her heating skin.

 

“You’re lucky I didn’t put ice down your pants”, Loki smirked, “Although, there’s still time. I might do just that for that prank you just pulled.”

 

_ “Noooooo!”  _ Amelia cried again, trying her best to shimmy out of the god’s hold, to no avail.

 

“Hold still now”, Loki instructed, keeping his arm tightly around her as he leaned down to pick up another handful of snow.

 

But he halted in place, his whole body going rigid as he stared down at his hand. His hand, which was slowly turning from peachy white to a deep blue.

 

Loki released Amelia in a heartbeat, almost dropping her in the snow, and recoiled quickly, taking tremulous steps back, trying to put as much distance between himself and Amelia as he could in those few moments. At Amelia’s concerned, questioning voice, he turned away from her, pulling his hood up in an attempt to hide his loathsome blue skin.

 

“Loki?” Amelia called softly, all playfulness drained from her tone, and her hand touched his arm - his clothed arm - and yet, he still flinched away for fear that the intense iciness of his skin would somehow seep through and freeze her.

 

She had looked upon his Jotun form only once before, a form he had taken out of anger and bitterness after having been spurned. He had scared her then in his bid to push her away, but he did not want to scare her now; he tried to hide himself, pivoting on his feet every time Amelia tried to get in front of him.

 

“Loki, stop trying to hide, it’s okay. I already saw your hand turning blue, I know why you’re hiding yourself”, she implored, managing to latch tightly onto his arm; she clinged to him firmly, clearly not accepting his sudden self-consciousness, “It’s alright Loki… you don’t have to hide from me. I’m not afraid to see you like this.” She sounded so confident in her statement, but it had been a while since she’d looked into his unnerving ruby-red eyes, so how could she really say for sure?

 

“Look, I’ll make a deal with you”, Amelia began strongly, “I’ll stop hating myself for the way my father treated me, if  _ you  _ stop hating this side of yourself.”

 

Her words punctured his little bubble of self-hatred, and he cautiously peered down at her in his peripheral; she leaned sideways to try and get a better look at his face, but he shut his eyes tight. He couldn’t let her see his rusty gaze.

 

Something touched his face and he bounced back in horror as he realised it was her palm,  _ “No, _ no!” He shouted, gaping as he studied Amelia’s hand - which was still suspended in mid-air - from afar; she clenched the removed glove tightly in her other hand. Amelia’s stare was on him, soft and worried, and she was completely unharmed, her palm still pale with a rosy redness to the fingers due to the chill of the air. 

 

“You shouldn’t have- you could’ve been hurt, Amelia, I-” He stammered in a rush before he realised his flesh had not caused her’s to become black and frostbitten as he had assumed it would. His cheek tingled slightly, the warmth of her hand somehow all that much hotter against the skin of his Jotun form; it was a pleasant sensation, but still he protested. “You can’t… I’m- I’m...”

 

“-Beautiful”, Amelia interjected.

 

“-What?” 

 

“You’re beautiful”, Amelia repeated, stepping towards him to bridge the gap between them; Loki was shocked into stillness, he had many descriptive words in mind to characterise his appearance in his birth form, but  _ ‘beautiful’  _ was definitely not one of them. 

 

He shook his head wordlessly, watched as Amelia pocketed the leather gloves, and he flinched when she reached for his hands.

 

“You’re not hurting me, Loki. Your skin is cold, but what else is new?” Her lips folded into a shy smile, “I mean it. I think you’re beautiful. In whatever form you take.”

 

Loki looked down at their hands intertwined, still unable to fully process the fact that she was not experiencing any cruel, frostbiting affliction. The warmth of her hands was intense, but it was the only heat he cared to endure.

 

He did not wholly believe her when she claimed he was the picture of beauty; he could never look in the mirror in this form and see anything but a hideous monster, but Amelia was unafraid. She traced the markings over the back of his hands, shivering as a chill crawled up her spine, and then stepped closer still, her arms going around his neck as she brought their bodies flush against each other.

 

“Kiss me, Loki.”

 

“What?” Loki mumbled with incredulity.

 

_ “Kiss  _ me.”

 

She tilted his head down and pressed her lips up against his before he could make any other sort of verbal protest, and in an instant, the heat of her lips seemed to engulf him. He relented, holding her body close to his, and plunged his tongue into her mouth - hot, wet and fiery - and moaned at the sensation. It was scalding, almost. But it was  _ good.  _ Overwhelming, even.

 

Loki pulled back with a gasp, his breaths quivery, and his eyes darted over Amelia to make sure, once again, that he hadn’t inadvertently harmed her. She was fine, of course, touching her fingers to her lips as she smiled, probably having experienced a sensation just as strange as what he had felt.

 

“That was like… kissing someone after they chugged an ice cold beer.” She giggled when Loki made a face in response to her comparison and quickly added, “It’s not a bad thing.”

 

Loki shook his head slightly, “You’re shivering. We should go inside”, he spoke softly, and then glanced down at his hands, “Once we’re out of the cold, I should turn back to normal.”

 

Amelia took his hand and laid a kiss to his knuckle, “Okay.”

 

“And then we can leave.” The god sighed in relief, but Amelia’s lips parted hesitantly.

 

“Actually, there’s  _ one  _ more thing I want to do, first.”

 

Loki sighed as they trudged back through the snow towards the sliding door of the house, “What would that be?”

 

“I’ve decided I want to go and see Dawn.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Viserys Targaryen looks a little like Loki with blond hair: https://amp.thisisinsider.com/images/59a38459701afca6088b4676-750-563.png
> 
> So, here's the thing y'all... THE NEXT CHAPTER IS THE LAST CHAPTER. I cannot BELIEVE that I have almost reached the end of this second fic in the series. It's crazy. I'm on a roll with completing long works xD And yes... next chapter will have the sexy scene I promised. But it also has other stuff including fluff, so even if you don't like smut scenes, you can still enjoy :)
> 
> Also, no promises, but I'm gonna TRY and get the next chapter out before End Game because fuck... I'm PRETTY fuckin sure I will be a depressed bean once that movies comes out, and definitely not in the writing mood. I think it's an attainable deadline, given the last chapter won't be nearly as long as this one.
> 
> Oh yes, and one final thing. At the end of the next chapter, I am gonna post a teaser of the summary of the next fic in this series, so I hope that'll excite everybody ;)
> 
> Please comment! I worked so hard on this chapter <3


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO I SAW END GAME...... I have MANY thoughts on it. But obviously I will not talk about them here because some people might still not have seen it. 
> 
> I meant to finish and post this the day before End Game came out but uuhhhhhh guess what? I GOT REALLY SICK. Like, bedridden sick. But I'm all better now, so it's all good. 
> 
> This is the final chapter of this fic. I am so happy to be able to say that, but at the same time I am sad that Chrysanthemums has come to an end. However... I'm psyched to begin writing the NEXT instalment in this series, which I shall share a teaser for at the end of this chapter ;)
> 
> Now, I did try to add the tag but either it's just taking a while to update or the tagging system isn't updating at all, but just in case it doesn't: EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT AHEAD.

“Shall I wait in the limo?”

 

They had left Amelia’s childhood home around seven o’clock in the evening, a box of dusty memories in hand, and Amelia had placed them safely in the backseat of the fancy vehicle that was to take them back to the hotel, but as the woman took a deep breath and turned her attention down the street, Loki had realised suddenly that it would probably be wise if he did not accompany Amelia to her old friend’s home.

 

But at the sound of Loki’s reasonable enquiry, Amelia’s hand sprung out to grab the god’s wrist, effectively telling him that she did not want him to leave her side.

 

“Do you think it would be logical to introduce me to your old friend?” Loki pointed out.

 

Amelia’s face fell in a way that revealed she knew exactly how bad an idea that would be. It was not beyond the realms of possibility that her old friend, Dawn, knew exactly who Loki was, and if Dawn saw Amelia standing on her doorstep hand in hand with the man that caused her brother’s death - without the context of their year-long relationship to soften the concept - she likely would not be amicable to either of them.

 

“I see your point”, Amelia murmured, her face twitching with reluctance, “but I don’t think I can face her alone…” She moved her weight from one foot to the other, shivering slightly from the cold temperature, and twiddled her thumbs as she contemplated what she wanted to do, until finally she spoke again, “Do you think you could… follow me… but be invisible?”

 

Loki quirked an eyebrow, “I thought you hated when I did that.”

 

“Well, I’m making an exception. Just this once”, said Amelia, taking a deep tremulous breath, turning her imploring gaze on Loki, “Please? Just having you beside me will make it easier.”

 

She didn’t need to ask again, for Loki was happy to accompany her. He nodded his head, placing his hand comfortingly on Amelia’s shoulder, to which the woman smiled with relief.

 

“Thank you, Loki.”

 

Loki followed Amelia down the street, turning down the road as she moved cautious and hesitant towards the house she knew as Dawn’s home. Before reaching it, Loki used his magic to shroud himself with ease, giving the illusion that Amelia was there alone; when they reached the gate, Amelia glanced back over her shoulder, eyes darting with a hint of panic that quickly settled as she realised Loki had already hidden himself from sight.

 

“I’m here.” Loki reminded her, his voice sounding from thin air, as far as Amelia was concerned, but it helped her relax, and she nodded her head.

 

“Alright. I can do this.”

 

She pushed the picket gate open and trudged down the snowy path, up the icy steps to the front door, and swallowed tightly before raising her hand to the doorbell. Her hand jerked back in anxious uncertainty and she placed her other hand on her chest as she took a deep breath; it was clear to Loki that she was incredibly apprehensive with what she was about to do.

 

Eventually, she pressed the button in a moment of temporary self-assurance, and then retracted her hand, shoving it in her pocket as she rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet, trying her best to calm herself.

 

There were a few moments of motionlessness beyond the door and windows of the house, but Loki could see a light on within, only just hidden by the lounge curtains drawn tightly; he heard the sound of footsteps approaching the door before Amelia even saw the blur of a figure coming closer within.

 

The door opened slowly, and Amelia’s tense shoulders slumped slightly.

 

A man stood in the entryway, a slightly perplexed look on his round face as he stared at Amelia - he seemed guarded, probably not having expected any sort of company that evening; he was stout and not too tall, somewhat attractive, couldn’t have been older than thirty-five, and wore black glasses on his nose. Auburn hair peaked out from below a light blue beanie hat, and the lower half of his face was covered with a similar shade of facial hair - bushier than Thor’s - while his eyes appeared somewhere between the hue of hazel and light green.

 

“Can I help you?” The man asked, his puzzlement evident in his voice.

 

Amelia gave a sigh, “I’m… sorry to bother you. I might have the wrong house… I was looking for a woman by the name of Dawn Summers.”

 

The man eyed her closely, looking ever so briefly back over his shoulder, before giving Amelia a polite smile, “Yeah, sorry, there’s definitely no one here by that name.”

 

Amelia’s body sagged slightly, perhaps with a mix of both relief and disappointment, and she hung her head. Loki was dispirited for her, knowing that this had been Amelia’s one chance to reconnect with an old friend, and that without a record of Dawn’s new home address, there was a very small chance of finding her.

 

“Oh…” Amelia murmured, her sadness palpable, “Okay… thanks anyway.”

 

Before she could fully turn and move to leave, the man quickly spoke again, “Wait! I’m- I’m sorry, I was just trying to be funny- Dawn is here, but she goes by Dawn Turner now. I’m her husband, Robert.” He stammered with apologetic laughter, possibly a tad embarrassed that his substandard attempt of _being funny_ had backfired and caused Amelia to become upset.

 

Loki heard Amelia gasp softly, and she abruptly grew tense once more. “O-oh! Can I… can I maybe see her?” She had resumed her nervous movements, shifting her weight back and forth to either foot repeatedly, “It’s been a while since I’ve seen her.”

 

“Yeah, but, what’s your name?” Robert enquired.

 

“It’s, um, Amelia.”

 

 _“Um-Amelia?_ Huh, weird name”, the man remarked with a crooked grin, “I’ll go get her, you just wait here a moment.” With a wink, he disappeared down the hallway, passed the stairs, and popped his head through a door.

 

Loki was not entirely sure whether he liked the man. Robert’s teasing remark rubbed Loki the wrong way, but then again, the man obviously had no knowledge of the trying day Amelia had had, not to mention how delicate a state she was in.

 

Robert’s muffled voice echoed back throughout the house, “Honey, there’s a woman here to see ya - says her name’s Amelia.”

 

Loki watched as Amelia clenched her fists by her side; he couldn’t see her expression from where he stood behind her, but if he had to guess, she was probably displaying a high level of distress and trying her utmost to hide it.

 

A woman, presumably Dawn, entered tentatively into the hallway, looking towards the front door where Amelia stood; the woman was pretty, her skin on the lighter side of brown, her hair black and bushy, and she froze abruptly when she spotted Amelia, eyes widening and her jaw falling open.

 

It was a tense few moments. The anticipation was bubbling. Loki could only imagine how Amelia must have been feeling in that moment, especially given that he was feeling jittery just watching the silent eye contact between the two women.

 

And then Dawn’s hands rose to cover her mouth, and she stumbled forward, immediately flinging her arms around Amelia in such a tight hold that Amelia was very nearly knocked off her feet. She recovered her balance, returning the gesture just as powerfully, and Loki heard her breath hitch as tears no doubt sprung to her eyes.

 

“Oh my god. It’s you, you’re here.” Dawn whispered, her voice trembling and eyes glistening. She pulled back from the hug just as quickly, once again looking upon Amelia with an expression of disbelief as she cupped her face, and then a large smile stretched her mouth, and a noise of high-pitched exhilaration escaped her throat as she grabbed her once again, holding her tight. “Oh my _god._ Amelia!”

 

Loki was relieved. This was the reunion Amelia needed after such an emotionally draining day; to be greeted by an old friend who had clearly missed her despite how their friendship had broken apart all those years ago.

 

Amelia was crying, tears squeezing out of tightly shut eyelids, and she shoved her face against Dawn’s shoulder to hide it. “I’ve missed you”, she whined, her words partially muffled and Dawn nodded her head in agreement.

 

“I’ve missed you too”, she breathed. When Dawn pulled back, she wiped her cheeks with her sleeve and gave a watery smile, “hey, it’s cold out here. Do you wanna come in?”

 

Amelia nodded, rubbing her eyes with her hands, and gave a breathless laugh, almost tripping over the door frame as she entered. Loki only just slipped in after her, very close to being hit in the face as Dawn pushed the door shut; he weaved between the two women with silent footsteps and slid past Robert into the living room in order to avoid any accidental collisions.

 

“Rob, this is Amelia Avery”, Dawn explained as she took the woman’s coat and motioned her into the room, everybody filtering into the warm lounge and out of the biting cold; Loki backed up and remained out of everyone’s way, situating himself in a sparse corner and taking the time to peer around the room for any indication as to what Dawn and her husband were like.

 

Loki could not immediately spot any collections of books, which was automatically a negative as far as he was concerned, but he gave this couple the benefit of the doubt - perhaps they kept their books upstairs. There was, however, a large collection of movies that spanned across several shelves.

 

He did not care much for movies, though.

 

The house did not seem nearly as large as Amelia’s childhood home, and the television was not as impressively huge as some of the ones he had seen before, so Loki could only assume the couple was of average wealth.

 

“Oh, _that_ Amelia”, Robert uttered with sudden understanding, “My wife has told me a little about you.”

 

Loki turned his attention back to the room’s occupants, unable to help but listen in on the interactions and assess the body language that was being displayed. Amelia sat on couch all tight and compact, a nervous little ball of tense energy, while Dawn was sat several inches away, practically hovering over her and leaning in her direction.

 

Amelia needn’t have been so tense. Her friend was genuinely happy to see her, but it seemed Amelia’s guilt at having caused them to split on bad terms was bubbling in the forefront of her mind.

 

“It’s, um- it’s been a long time”, Amelia began slowly, “I, ah, I was in the area and thought I’d come see if you still lived here”, a faint smile formed on her lips.

 

“I’m surprised, Am, I really didn’t think I’d ever see you in New Jersey again”, Dawn spoke, not unkindly, with an undertone of curiosity, “-I mean, I’m terribly happy to see you. You have _no_ idea. Feel like I’m high right now.” She had a wistful air to her breathless voice, and her remark brought a giggle from Amelia’s throat.

 

“I’m happy to see you too”, Amelia admitted quietly, “and I’m… sorry it took so long”, she bit her lip to cover the emotional baggage behind her apology. Dawn’s lips parted as she scanned Amelia’s face, and then she turned purposefully to her husband with a small smile.

 

“Rob, could you make Amelia a hot chocolate?” Dawn politely requested, and the jovial man practically bounced out of his seat, more than happy to assist with his wife’s wishes.

 

“Extra big marshmallows?” Robert called out as he headed through the back of the living room into the connecting kitchen, narrowly missing Loki who quickly stepped aside to maintain his concealment.

 

“Oh god, yes. Please.” Amelia seemed lighter already, her cheeks tinged pink with simmering merriment - no doubt at the thought of drinking the delicious, chocolatey beverage.

 

“So”, Dawn began, a little more reserved and in control of her enthusiasm, “what are you doing back in New Jersey?”

 

Amelia’s lips curled into a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes, and she let out a huff of cynical amusement, “Well, my father kicked the bucket, so I figured I’d come loot the house for any sentimental belongings.”

 

A flicker of shock passed over Dawn’s face and for a moment she was speechless; her mouth twitched, as if she couldn’t figure out exactly what she wanted to say, and just as she appeared to have formulated a response, Amelia interjected with genuine amusement.

 

“It’s okay, you can cheer. It’s not exactly heartbreaking, now is it?”

 

“I know, it’s just-” Dawn was quick to respond, words tumbling out of her mouth before she could properly articulate her thoughts, “-you’re… all alone now.”

 

Loki watched as Amelia shook her head slowly. “No, it’s okay”, she said, “I’m not alone.”

 

Dawn fiddled with her hands in her lap, and nodded along to Amelia’s words, something akin to relief in her eyes, and Loki began to wonder exactly how their friendship had fallen apart. It was clear Dawn cared for Amelia, even after all this time; Amelia had never really expanded on what had transpired between the two of them - only that Amelia had overstepped a boundary in her grief and caused their whole relationship to come tumbling down.

 

It must have really been impactful, because Dawn seemed so eager to make sure Amelia was fine and happy. Well, Loki supposed, perhaps time simply healed those wounds. Both of them had probably had more than enough time for reflection.

 

“Here we go. One magnificent hot chocolate with extra big marshmallows, coming right up”, Rob came padding back into the room with a steaming mug, and Amelia grinned as it was handed to her.

 

“Thank you so much, you have no idea how much I needed this”, Amelia spoke, bringing the mug to her lips in order to blow on the marshmallowy froth.

 

“Actually, I had a pretty good idea”, Dawn replied slyly, “I could tell from the look in your eyes.”

 

“Still reading me like an open book, huh?”

 

“That’s the best-friend powers still in effect”, Dawn smiled, her expression somewhat profound despite the jesting tone of her voice.

 

Amelia caught one of the marshmallows between her teeth and sucked it into her mouth before licking her lips, taking a moment to enjoy both the taste of the hot chocolate and the warmth it offered her hands.

 

“Can you, um, tell me how you two met?” Amelia asked tentatively, determined to fill the silence for the sake of her own comfort. “Was it love at first sight, like I’m assuming?” She went on to say, accompanying her enquiry with an amused little wink.

 

“Hah, that’d be quite a wrong assumption”, Dawn snorted, shooting her husband a knowing look, and Robert shook his head, his wide smile more than a little ironic. “It was at the carnival. I was with two of the girls from work and we were trying our luck at this dumb claw machine-”

 

“She was desperately trying to get this Captain America figurine”, Robert interposed, holding his hands up in a way to show the stature of the item, “-and it just wasn’t budging.”

 

“Ah, no. Pretty sure I was trying to get the Iron Man figurine”, Dawn corrected swiftly.

 

Loki quirked an eyebrow. Captain America figurine? _Iron Man figurine?_ Did all of the Avengers have little statuettes of themselves in production? Did humans make statuettes of _him?_ Loki could not help but wonder.

 

“I swear I tried like five times to get it, and then Rob over here struts up all arrogant and haughty saying _this is how it’s done, ladies-”_

 

“Let me guess, he won you the Iron Man figurine?” Amelia asked.

 

“Captain America figurine”, Rob rectified.

 

“It was _Iron Man,_ damnit. And no, he didn’t win it. In fact, he failed miserably and went red with embarrassment”, Dawn seemed smug as she stated this, and Rob rolled his eyes, “-and then as we were walking away, he said he’d make a deal. If he could win me the Iron Man figurine, I had to give him my number.”

 

Amelia seemed invested in the story, her shoulders a lot looser as she sipped on her hot chocolate, nodding her head along as Dawn spoke. Loki was still reeling over the idea that the other Avengers all had miniature replicas of themselves all made in their honour.

 

“So I proceeded to blow all the money I had on me - which was literally like thirty dollars - on this one little claw machine”, Rob sighed, “and _failed._ Didn’t get no Captain America figurine-”

 

_“Iron Man.”_

 

“-and I tried to play it cool, but on the inside I felt I was gonna spontaneously combust.”

 

“Wait, so how did you two end up getting together?” Amelia tilted her head with curiosity.

 

Dawn smiled, glancing sideways at her husband, “I took pity on him. Figured a guy who would spend thirty bucks trying to get me a small prize in a claw machine was clearly dedicated boyfriend material - but I didn’t really warm up to him until the third date”, there was something utterly playful in her grin, and Loki found himself pondering whether winning a carnival prize for a potential mate was really such a huge romantic gesture.

 

He’d never won a prize for Amelia. Did that make him subpar ‘boyfriend material’?

 

“The third date, I made the clever decision to bring a bouquet of flowers. Girls love flowers”, Rob stated complacently.

 

“I’m quite aware”, Amelia giggled, “What flowers were they?”

 

“He got me tulips”, Dawn revealed.

 

“Your favourite!” Amelia recalled, looking to Rob in surprise, “How did you know they were her favourite?”

 

Rob smirked, “That’s the good ol’ Turner intuition.”

 

“More like the luckiest guess you ever made”, Dawn gave a huff of amusement.

 

“I guess fate was on my side that day”, Robert shrugged, looking to his wife with a face full of adoration, and Dawn grew slightly bashful.

 

Loki roll his eyes exasperatedly. Listening to other people’s excessively sentimental and emotional anecdotes was so _boring._ It didn’t help that Amelia’s eyes were all sparkly and yearningful at her friend’s reminiscence. _He_ could be that romantic if he wanted to - he just wasn’t a fan of how _mawkish_ the couple came across.

 

The God of Mischief made a few mental notes. _Buy more flowers and win carnival prizes at any opportunity._

 

“Mmm”, Dawn hummed, “and then, two years ago, we got married.”

 

“That’s so wonderful”, Amelia sighed, starry-eyed and seemingly breathless all of a sudden.

 

Loki tilted his head thoughtfully; did Amelia wish to marry him? She hadn’t expressed any desire for them to become bonded in matrimony in the time they had been together thus far, but he suspected the human customs of marriage were quite different to Asgardian customs; the only times Odin and Frigga had ever mentioned the prospect of either Thor or Loki getting married had been under the guise of uniting kingdoms for benefit.

 

Loki had never expected to marry for love, but now he was not bound to his father’s rules. He could marry whomever he wished, and Amelia was truly the only candidate for him; but was that what Amelia wanted?

 

If Amelia were to marry him, she would become princess of Asgard. The concept was amusing to Loki, because he knew that Amelia would have a wildly irrational reaction to the idea of becoming a royal - the revelation would most definitely cause her to _freak out._

 

And then there was the populace of Asgard to consider. Would the rest of the Asgardians welcome Amelia as their new princess, if it were to happen? Loki was sure that they would warm to Amelia quickly, but they would have to give her a chance to begin with. Would Asgard want a princess who knew nothing about being a royal?

 

Loki exhaled silently, realising that his imagination had gotten the better of him. Amelia had never expressed interest in marriage - it would probably never come to that. It wasn’t as if marriage was required to hold a relationship together - they were strong enough to do that on their own.

 

But again, Loki let his mind wander. The image of Amelia stood before the large assembly of Asgard’s populace, right there by his side, dressed in the finest Asgardian silks that together made up a gown of unmatched beauty - Loki knew that if his mother was still alive, she would have jumped at the chance to create the gown herself - and Thor would be there to offer the King’s Blessing upon the sacred bonding ceremony.

 

Loki licked his lip and then blinked himself back to reality. Amelia looked sad all of a sudden, her gaze dispirited as it bore into her half-drank cup of hot chocolate, and Loki wondered if he’d missed anything.

 

“I… I wish I’d been here. I mean- I wish I hadn’t missed all of this, you know? Watching you fall in love and get married - your _wedding._ Best friends are supposed to be there for that kind of thing”, her lip wobbled, eyes glistening, “I’m sorry, Dawn… I’m sorry for everything that happened between us. I acted so horribly towards you, and I never should have… I never should-”

 

Before Amelia could say anymore, Dawn flung her arms around her, hugging her tightly and speaking with a quivering voice, “Don’t, Amelia- it’s okay… damn girl, you’re gonna make me cry. I’m sorry too. I dealt with it all so badly… and I’ve regretted it every day since.”

 

“I- I _totally_ understand why you put your foot down, Dawn. I crossed a line”, Amelia sniffed, rubbing her eyes, “I just… wanted to say sorry.”

 

Dawn pulled back, offering a teary smile, “I’ll forgive you if you forgive me.”

 

Amelia ducked her head, burying her face against Dawn’s shoulder, and gave a muffled response, _“Deal.”_

 

Loki was relieved. Amelia’s reunion with her childhood friend couldn’t have gone any better - at least one thing had gone in her favour today, after such an emotionally taxing experience in her old home.

 

A sudden gurgling noise interrupted the tender moment, and Loki froze, turning slowly to the strange object that was situated atop the cabinets he was stood next to. It was small and white, and lighting up red in time with the disembodied babbling that appeared to be emanating from it.

 

“Oh my god”, Amelia whispered, her hand covering her mouth, “Is that what I think it is? A baby monitor?”

 

Dawn bit her lip, clearly covering up a grin, and nodded her head gently.

 

A squeal of delight slipped from Amelia’s throat, her expression both shocked and elated, “You had a _baby?_ You _had_ a _baby?”_ Her shrill exclamation was filled with excitement, _“When?_ Huu-wha, ahh, wh-” She stammered incoherently, unsure of what to do with her hands as she motioned wildly before pressing them against her face.

 

Dawn was laughing, and Rob looked incredibly amused. Loki found Amelia’s reaction both entertaining and endearing, and noted that Amelia clearly had a fondness for infants; he wondered if she wanted children of her own some day.

 

“Three months ago”, Rob answered Amelia’s barely intelligible enquiry , “A baby boy. His name is Noah.”

 

“Do you wanna meet him?” Dawn asked, though it was obvious to everybody in the room that the answer was an absolute _yes._

 

Amelia wordlessly nodded her head with great enthusiasm, utterly delighted at the prospect, so Rob rose from the couch and headed up the stairs to retrieve his and Dawn’s murmuring child, whose inarticulate little voice continued to sound through the device to Loki’s left.

 

“I can’t believe you had a- and you look- you look _fantastic”,_ Amelia stumbled over her words, gesturing to Dawn’s body, “I’m- I’m just _speechless,_ this is amazing.” She wiped her fingers below her eyes to dispel the tears of shock and jubilation.

 

Amelia was jittery now, restless in her eagerness to meet her best friend’s new baby, and Dawn was endlessly smiley about it too; Loki couldn’t help but muse over Amelia’s exuberant behaviour. Women always seemed so captivated with babies - going above and beyond to fawn over infants with special care and adoration. He had never seen a man act in quite the same way, even in Asgard - where the longevity of the population’s lives meant a far lower birth rate than here on Midgard. The sight of a baby back in Asgard was considered very uncommon, but the few occasional times Loki _had_ been in the presence of an infant, he had not devolved into a squeaky, fussing mess, making kissy faces at the children like _some_ of the Asgardian women.

 

The sight of drooling, vacant-eyed infants did not seem appealing to Loki, and thus he had never had the desire to hold a baby. Unlike Amelia, apparently, who immediately straightened up when Rob re-entered the room, this time carrying a cooing bundle wrapped in a blanket.

 

“Can- can I hold him? _Pleeeease?”_ Amelia chirped, interlocking her hands together as if pleading; Dawn giggled, rising from the couch to gently take the child from her husband. She cradled the baby, Noah, in her arms as she returned to her seat beside Amelia, whose face lit up with a spectacular and radiant grin at the sight of the sleepy little eyes peeking out from the blue blanket.

 

“Here we go”, Dawn murmured, shifting her hold on the child in order to hand him over to Amelia, whose arms automatically formed a cradle, the baby’s head resting in the nook of her elbow, with her other arm supporting him from below. She took him so naturally that one would assume she already had children of her own, but Loki chalked it up to the deep maternal instincts that a lot of women intuitively held. The need to protect something much smaller and much more helpless.

 

The baby _was_ small and helpless. It was tiny and wriggly, possibly agitated at being placed in the arms of a stranger, but it gazed up at Amelia with curiosity. Amelia, on the other hand, looked completely smitten with the child, biting her lip to try and control her wide grin and quivering mouth. She steadied the baby with the help of her lap, and with one hand, she cupped his head, gently brushing her fingers across the thin, black strands of hair.

 

“Look at you. You’re an absolute cutie”, she cooed with a soft voice, “such a handsome little man.”

 

Loki loomed above, taking special care to avoid moving anywhere Dawn or Rob could accidentally bump into him, and he inspected the infant’s face. His skin was the same ebony shade as Dawn, but the greenish eyes were definitely inherited from Robert; the child’s face was round and innocent, with a tiny nose and tiny lips.

 

Sure, the baby was _cute,_ as Amelia had said, but a more darling sight was that of Amelia holding the baby so cautiously and adoringly, her face exhibiting nothing but intense happiness and fondness.

 

Loki wondered, for just a moment, what it would be like to see Amelia holding a child of their own, but he banished the thought as quickly as it came. The idea of having a child was alarming, and it required a _lot_ of responsibility, along with the know-how of being a parent; Loki was far from confident in his ability to be a good father.

 

He stepped back, continuing to watch from a distance, and simply enjoyed the sight of Amelia beaming with joy.

 

“Amelia?” Dawn asked after a while of silence that was filled only by the cooing of both Amelia and the baby, “You said earlier that you’re not alone. Who do you have? Friends? ...A boyfriend?” There was a note of coyness in her voice as she spoke her last question.

 

Amelia’s eyes left the baby in her arms, but she still continued to gently poke it’s cheeks playfully with the tips of her fingers.

 

“I have a family”, said Amelia, a knowing look in her gaze, and Loki smiled.

 

Dawn looked briefly surprised by her answer, but it melted away to contentment, “And you’re happy?”

 

Loki awaited Amelia’s response, the room falling completely quiet for more than a few moments, and then she replied, “I’m the happiest I’ve been in years.”

 

* * *

 

“Wasn’t Noah just the cutest baby you’ve ever seen?”

 

“I suppose.”

 

“Did you _see_ his little _fingers?_ Too adorable!”

 

“Yes, I saw.”

 

Amelia glanced up at Loki, shifting slightly in her seat in the back of the limo, and tilted her head, “Is something wrong?”

 

Loki turned away from the window to face her, a tentative and thoughtful look in his eyes, “Did you mean what you said? When you told Dawn you were happy?”

 

Amelia’s face creased with light confusion, “Well, of course”, she answered, as though his question was completely absurd, “I’m happy with you, Loki.”

 

Loki looked wordlessly into her eyes for a solid few seconds before nodding his head, turning back to gaze out the window.

 

“What about you?” Amelia continued.

 

“Hm?”

 

“Are you happy, Loki?”

 

A lot had happened in the past year. Amelia knew both she and Loki had grown as people, and that their experiences, the highs and lows, had shaped them and brought them to where they were today. Amelia was content, comforted with the knowledge that Loki would stand by her and help her through any hardship she faced, and in return, she would stand by him and do the same. Neither of them were alone, and it sprouted hope in Amelia’s heart. Hope for the future.

 

Loki contemplated her question, and Amelia wished she could read his thoughts, because the longer he left her enquiry unanswered, the more Amelia was sure he was not going to respond positively. But after several more long moment, Loki smiled and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close to his side.

 

“Yes”, Loki told her, “I am happy too.”

 

The knowledge of his warm, spoken truth was enough to fill Amelia with tranquility, and she leaned against him, eyes falling shut, as the limo took them both back to the hotel.

 

When they arrived, the sky was dark and the temperature had dropped even further; Amelia was shivering by the time they entered the lobby. She continued to hug herself and hastily rub her arms throughout the elevator journey up to their floor, and practically flung herself into the presidential suite after several frantic moments of fiddling with the electronic lock.

 

 _“Oh,_ good. There’s heating in here”, Amelia sighed in relief, basking in the warmth of the room, and Loki placed down Amelia’s box of sentimental items that he had dutifully carried for her.

 

Shedding his coat, Loki glanced over at Amelia who had dropped her outer layer of clothing on the floor and kicked off her shoes, and was now slumped across the couch with her legs curled up against her body.

 

“I assume you are very tired after today. You probably want to go to bed”, Loki uttered in a voice that did not _sound_ like a question, but Amelia was quite sure he was asking, and she was also certain that there was a note of hopefulness in his tone that brought a smile to her face.

 

She sat up and rose from the couch, taking coy steps towards him, being sure to put a little sway into each movement, and her palm settled gently on his cheek, thumb brushing the pale skin there, “I believe I made it clear back at the house what it is that I want.”

 

Loki’s mouth pulled slowly into a smirk, and it was the only instance of warning Amelia was given before she was suddenly being hoisted up with her back pressed against the wall and her legs circling around the god’s waist. Amelia let out was a startled gasp, and then Loki’s mouth was pressed to her’s, his tongue sliding against her own in an open, hot kiss.

 

After the long day she had had, it felt simply _perfect_ to be pressed tightly against him with their mouths moving together, exchanging moans in the heat and compassion of being so thoroughly swept off her feet. It was always a pleasure to be reminded of Loki’s incredible strength and how effortlessly he held her up so that their faces were level - the perfect height to make out.

 

Loki always knew just what to do with his hands; his fingers crept into her hair and clenched, taking special care not to tug too hard on her tresses, but the pressure it caused was glorious and left her shuddering. While Loki’s underlying peppermint scent drifted into her nose, Amelia was also very aware of the dusty smell emanating from the both of them.

 

She turned her head suddenly as an idea pinged to mind, her gaze drifting towards the bedroom, and Loki pulled back slightly, looking somewhat perplexed, his lips still parted and glistening with saliva.

 

“Darling, if you really are too tired, then we can always wait until-”

 

“Are you kidding me?” Amelia exclaimed, pinning Loki with a determined gaze, “I’ve been waiting for this all day! I was just gonna say that we’re both all grimy from going through all my old stuff, so why don’t we, y’know… do it in the shower?”

 

Loki’s eyebrows rose, “I like the way you think, love.”

 

Amelia was nothing but giggles as they made their way quickly to the ensuite bathroom that connected to the main bedroom. It was an impressive size, with both a spacious shower that acted more like an enclosed wet-room, and a large bath with bubble jets - _they’d definitely have to try that at some point_ \- and plenty of floor space with which to throw their clothing down onto.

 

She turned on the spray and adjusted the temperature of the water - not too hot - because Loki’s skin was sensitive to the heat, but warm enough that it was comfortable and encompassing. Amelia stepped in, having been a lot faster at discarding her clothes, and shivered in anticipation as she waited for the god to join her, her skin rippling with goosebumps.

 

The spray felt good against her skin. She tilted her head back, closing her eyes as the water trailed through her unkempt hair and over her scalp, rinsing away any dust that had settled throughout the day in that old, memory-filled house. Amelia sighed, expelling her deep breath through her nose as the warm water trickled against her tense muscles and urged her to relax; even if the water could not de-stress her fully, she knew that she would soon enough be loose and luxuriating in the arms of her lover.

 

Speaking of which, Amelia licked her lips when she sensed Loki’s presence behind her as he stepped in and pushed the misted screen door shut. She felt the god’s hot breath against her shoulder moments before he dipped down and pressed a kiss to her skin, and immediately she was filled with a wave of euphoria that left her giddy - it felt _so good_ to be with Loki again in such a sensual and intimate context.

 

His calloused hands were on her naked body, fingers drifting over her flesh with featherlight touches, dragging down her sides, over her thighs, across her stomach, and up to her chest; he cupped her breasts, giving only a gentle squeeze that just _wasn’t enough._ Amelia worried her lower lip between her teeth, a quiet whine escaping her as she leaned back against Loki’s chest, and the sound of his soft, rich laughter filled the air. His arms encircled her waist, holding her flush against him, and Amelia hummed contentedly at the warmth that surrounded her.

 

With one arm holding her firmly in place, Loki’s other hand wandered down and came to rest at her thigh, his fingers drawing invisible circles against her flesh in repetitive motions while his voice came low and enticing against her ear.

 

“It’s been far too long since I had you like this, darling”, his breath tickled as he spoke, “bare and vulnerable, your body quivering below my touch.”

 

He always began with sultry words, intent on riling Amelia up before anything else, and she was so used to it by now that it had an almost instantaneous effect on her. Amelia’s arms clung to Loki’s own, her back arching subtly in order to push her hips forwards, wordlessly pleading for more than his teasing touches, but Loki would not let up yet, and she very much knew it.

 

“I’ve missed it very much”, he kept his tone quiet and whispery, pressing his nose into her hair as he kissed behind her ear, “and I’m sure you have too. So many months without a release, your body is taut and desperate, it yearns for me. I’ll give you whatever you want, darling, my fingers, my mouth, _my cock,_ mm?”

 

“Yes”, Amelia breathed, tilting her head to the side as Loki’s mouth travelled down her neck, pressing light kisses to her wet skin, “yes… yes.” She could do nothing but repeat the word like a chant, letting out a sudden cry and seizing up as Loki’s lips found a particularly sensitive patch. Loki smiled against her neck, darting his tongue out to lick and suck at that point, knowing he was driving Amelia crazy.

 

She craved the feeling of him filling her up, the grind of his hips, the way he knew just how to make her beg for more; she _needed_ it so badly, and his words were doing nothing but strengthening those desires, reminding her how much she had missed him sinking in between her thighs and setting every nerve ending alight with pleasure.

 

But first, she wanted to make _him_ feel good.

 

Amelia broke out of his hold, nudging his arms aside and turning to face him; she ran her hands over her face and back through her hair to clear her vision of the water that was trailing into her eyes, and took a moment to look and admire Loki’s body.

 

The most catching thing was his eyes, bright, green and intense, gazing back at her with undisguised lust, one of the many gorgeous features of his face. His sharp cheekbones were dusted with pink, his face flushed with arousal, and his lips were parted as he surveyed her face with an inquisitive look.

 

His hair was matted down, heavy with water, and Amelia smiled, brushing aside the loose strands that were stuck to his face and cupping his cheek lovingly. He was drastically handsome, as always, and Amelia couldn’t help but trail her eyes slowly over his muscular form. The veins in his arms made her particularly weak in the knees, and she let her hands fall to his chest, feeling the firmness of his pectoral muscles, tracing over the uneven skin where his scars were prominent - especially the large scar right above his heart.

 

Amelia had always wanted to ask, but whenever she was reminded of it, it was never a good time - like now, for instance. She tore her focus away from the scar, and instead gazed down, biting her lip at the sight of Loki’s shaft, hard and wanting, standing rigid with a slight upwards curve.

 

She took it in her hand without hesitation as she stepped closer, teasing the god with a few steady strokes. Loki made an audible noise, his chest rising as he drew in a sharp breath, and his lips parted further; his hands clenched around her upper arms momentarily before he tilted her chin up and kissed her, pushing his tongue into her mouth none too gently.

 

Amelia continued to rub Loki’s cock, her hand forming a tight grip as she massaged him up and down, but her focus was forced into meeting Loki’s impassioned kiss with just as much enthusiasm as he was displaying.

 

He growled against her mouth when she pressed her thumb against the head of his cock, digging into the slit, his breath escaping out of his nose in a hot exhale, and they parted with a smack of their lips. Loki’s hand tightened around her wrist, stilling her movements over his member, and Amelia looked up into his fervent gaze questioningly.

 

“Amelia”, Loki spoke, “Can I taste you?”

 

Amelia smiled, “Another time, maybe”, and pressed a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth, “But right now, I want to wrap my lips around your cock.”

 

A subdued moan of faint surprise escaped Loki’s throat, and he nodded his head eagerly; the god moved so that his back was against the tiled wall, giving himself the opportunity to brace himself, and Amelia sank to her knees slowly before him, keeping her gaze locked on his the whole time.

 

Her hand moved once again on his shaft, a few brief strokes before she leaned forward, one hand on his thigh, and flicked her tongue over the head of his dick. His breath quickened visibly, chest rising and falling faster than normal, and his eyes did not leave the sight before him, his gaze practically glued to her mouth.

 

Amelia had Loki in the palm of her hand, both literally and figuratively, and it brought a smile to her face that she could affect him so. She pressed a kiss to the tip of his cock before drawing a long, languorous lick from the base of his shaft to the head, and then took his balls in hand, fondling them gently as she drew the end of his cock into her mouth, giving teasingly shallow bobs of her head.

 

 _“Oh.”_ The audible gasp from Loki’s mouth sent a shiver down her spine, the sound alone bringing tingling sensations of pleasure to her core.

 

She closed her mouth fully over the tip and sucked lightly at first before increasing the strength of her suction and taking more of him in. She did so rhythmically and slowly, making sure to draw it out, and gave special attention to the underside of his glans, darting her tongue over it purposefully.

 

Amelia wanted a reaction, and she got one. Loki squeezed his eyes shut briefly but opened them quickly again, not wanting to risk missing any gorgeous visuals of his lover’s mouth suckling on his cock, and he pressed his lips tightly together, sealing any involuntary noises within.

 

She wanted to hear him moan, though, so she mentally braced herself before sinking her mouth deeper onto his cock, taking him in more than halfway, which was just about her comfort limit - any further and she could start to choke. She sucked what she _could_ fit in her mouth, and encircled the rest with her hand, using light strokes in time with the ripples of her tongue to draw a more salient reaction from the god.

 

Loki’s mouth fell open, gulping in a shaky breath, and his hand came to rest on Amelia’s head - he was making a clear effort not to push her head any further onto his cock, something she greatly appreciated. His member was quite an impressive size, after all.

 

She lightly squeezed his balls in a periodic manner as she moaned around his shaft, allowing the vibrating tremors in her mouth to stimulate him, forcing aborted gasps from Loki’s throat as he struggled to remain composed.

 

“Amelia, ah-” His breathy puffs spurred her on, sending stabs of desire through her, and Amelia pulled back slightly, letting her tongue circle around the sensitive head; she could taste the salty precum beading at the tip of his cock, it was only a matter of time before he reached completion.

 

Just as she was about to speed up the darting movements of her tongue, Loki nudged her back, gripping the base of his dick and breathing shallowly through his clenched teeth.

 

“Stop, stop, that’s enough”, he grunted.

 

Amelia gazed up, the hot water spray of the shower running down her face and rinsing away the saliva that had accumulated down her chin, her eyes somewhat perplexed at Loki’s sudden inclination for her to cease.

 

“I want to make you come”, she expressed as she licked her swollen lips, and Loki groaned, holding out his hand for Amelia to take so that she could stand.

 

“That was marvellous, love. But I don’t want to come just yet”, the god explained as he helped her off her knees, and Amelia let out a squeak as Loki spun her around and lifted her up, pressing her back against the tiled wall and hooking her legs securely around his hips.

 

“That’s _cold”,_ Amelia cried, her back arching, and Loki chuckled, the very sound of his deep laughter causing her to tighten her legs around the god. She was aware quite suddenly of how achingly empty she felt.

 

“I want to be buried deep inside you when I come”, Loki spoke, leaning down to lay open-mouth kisses on her collarbone. His wet hair tickled against Amelia’s skin, and she arched into his ministrations for an entirely different reason, now.

 

Loki’s hand cupped her breast, caressing and squeezing, and he trapped her nipple between two fingers, pinching roughly to draw an ardent moan from his lover.

 

“W-what are you waiting for, then?” Amelia whined, slipping her hand down between them to rub her clit, “I’m ready for you.” Loki’s hand caught her quickly before she could barely begin to touch herself, his firm grip on her wrist enough to let her know that he didn’t approve of her sneaky attempt to bring herself pleasure.

 

“Amelia, have I ever told you that desperation looks good on you?”

 

She groaned in response to his words, her hips shifting forward as he continued to play with her nipple, the little twinges of need working their way down between her legs and making her clit throb.

 

“You _may_ have mentioned it once or twice”, Amelia murmured, her tone swathed in unrelenting sarcasm; teasing her till she begged was one of Loki’s favourite things to do, and she was really beginning to _feel_ it. She hadn’t had any direct stimulation yet but she could tell her entrance was already dripping - the eroticism of watching Loki squirm in pleasure as she sucked his cock was partially to do with it. “Now hurry up and stick your dick in me.”

 

Loki’s amused grin stretched across his face as he rolled Amelia’s nipple firmly below his thumb one final time before reaching down between them to part her folds with two long fingers, “Well, since you asked so romantically…” He slipped two digits inside her, trailing off his potential quip to lick his lips when he felt just how wet she was - his fingers met no resistance, and he pumped them in a few times fast, to Amelia’s delight.

 

The god was panting when he removed his hand and slid two slick-coated fingers into his mouth.

 

“Fuck”, Amelia exhaled, unable to look away from the sight.

 

“Mmm”, Loki hummed, running his tongue over his digits, “Divine. Just as I remember.”

 

Amelia was sure her face was bright red, the heat on her cheeks was a dead giveaway, especially given how the hot water now felt cool as it trickled over her skin.

 

“Loki… _please.”_

 

The god smiled at the sound of her plea. He needed no more than that, and quickly took his cock in hand, giving it a few rewarding strokes before guiding it between Amelia’s folds, pressing into her wet entrance. She was so sufficiently aroused that he slid in with little problem, his hips gradually flush against hers, and his head fell back in ecstacy.

 

“Oh, mm-melia…” Loki stammered, his hands gripping Amelia’s thighs tightly.

 

A long moan escaped Amelia as she was blessed with the feeling of being so full; it had been too long, far too long since she’d felt the same pleasure, “Fuck me, fuck me, Loki”, she whimpered, the words oozing from her mouth in one drawn out cry of lechery.

 

So Loki gave her what she wanted, pistoning his hips with a fast pace from the get go, because they were far beyond taking things slow now. They both craved the culmination of pleasure that came from being so closely entwined, bodies rubbing against each other in a frenzied act of passion.

 

Amelia could happily stay in such a position forever, the waves of rapture rolling across her body, Loki’s soft noises of sexual glee sounding in her ear, their slippery, wet bodies and the constant skin contact. There was contentment and happiness.

 

Loki’s hand slithered between her legs and his thumb found Amelia’s clit, caressing with a circular motion that immediately sent electricity through her nerves, her spine tingling as her orgasm crashed against her all too quickly.

 

In an instant, Amelia’s hand was clenched in Loki’s hair, and she tugged the dark strands roughly as she cried out, pulling a visceral, throaty growl from the god. Loki continued to plough into her hard and fast, burying his face between her neck and shoulder, latching on to her skin and sucking hard.

 

A moment passed, and then Loki was there with her, riding the ripples of pleasure, his thrusts slowing to a deep drag against her tight inner walls. Amelia felt the evidence of his orgasm fill her entrance, the hot wetness causing Loki’s movements to become sharper and haphazard.

 

“Yes, yes… yes…” The delightful pulses of her clit became infrequent and less powerful, bringing her down into the wonderful state of relaxed euphoria, and finally Loki’s movements came to a halt, his mouth still attached to her neck, tongue lapping lazily against her skin.

 

Loki slumped slightly and his cock slipped out of her. His hands landed on Amelia’s waist, helping her to detach her legs from around his hips till she was stood steadily on the porcelain tile flooring of the shower. She wasn’t steady for long, though, because Amelia’s legs quivered in their stance, and she would have gone tumbling to the floor had her arms not been tightly linked around the god’s neck.

 

“Alright, darling?” Loki asked softly, practically wrapping himself around her to keep her from falling.

 

“Mmm”, Amelia hummed in response, the energy to create a coherent reply having left her.

 

Loki was good at interpreting her nonverbal cues, and with the context provided, it was easy to figure out that Amelia was very happy and content and probably in need of a lie down. The god kissed her, relaxed and languid, and Amelia summoned the energy to smile into the kiss, returning it as best she could.

 

When they parted, they shared a moment of wordless eye contact that was filled with adoration, even unspoken it was still palpable and thrumming with vitality.

 

“I love you”, Amelia whispered, her voice barely comprehensible above the noise of the rushing water, but Loki heard her, and he gave her lips a peck in response before grabbing the shower head and using it to wash away the proof of their amorous coupling.

 

When they were both clean, they stepped out of the shower, toweled themselves off, padded through to the main bedroom and collapsed on the bed, crawling below the covers so they could fall asleep in each other’s arms.

 

Several hours later, Loki awoke with a start, eyes darting around the unfamiliar room for a few seconds before he remembered where he was; his arms tightened around Amelia, who was draped over his chest and snoozing peacefully, as the remnants of his nightmare came and went in his mind.

 

His agitated breaths and movements woke her up, and she gave a tired murmur, blinking her eyes, addled and disorientated, until she realised Loki was awake and alert.

 

“D’ja have ‘nother nightmare?” She mumbled, still apparently far from wakefulness.

 

“Yes”, Loki said quietly, pausing momentarily before he went on to say, “I dreamt you were gone.”

 

Amelia blinked tightly, struggling to lift her eyelids, “‘M right here… not going anywhere…”

 

Loki’s hand came to rest on her head, his fingertips grazing her scalp soothingly, “Amelia?” He asked.

 

“Mm?”

 

“...If ever a day goes by where I don’t say I love you, always know that I do.”

 

Amelia didn’t respond, but Loki was sure she had heard his words, because when she fell back into unconsciousness several minutes later, she did so with a smile on her face.

 

* * *

Several weeks later…

* * *

  


_Deck the halls with boughs of holly, fa-la-la-la-la la-la-la-la._

 

“Is it done yet?”

 

“No, Loki, I only just started it ten minutes ago.”

 

“Well how much longer could it possibly take?”

 

“You do realise that Christmas dinner takes a while to prepare, right?”

 

Amelia didn’t know what had led her to volunteer herself for the task of cooking Christmas dinner for _all_ the Avengers when there were perfectly good chefs employed who were happy to work the holiday for a generous pay bonus. But here she was, standing in the kitchen with a countertop full of ingredients, and a massive turkey to boot.

 

“Just turn the oven heat up higher so that it’ll cook faster.”

 

Amelia looked up at Loki with incredulity present on her face, “Now I understand Thor’s claim that you can’t cook for your life.”

 

Loki rolled his eyes, breathing a huff as Thor’s laughter echoed across the large room, and he sent the God of Thunder a dirty look before crossing his arms and leaning back against the counter.

 

“So how long will it take?”

 

“Your title should be the God of Impatience”, Amelia quipped with a smirk, “It’ll be hours yet. This turkey is for later. It’s only midday so go eat a snack or something.” She’d barely even finished stuffing the damn thing, let alone placed it in the oven. Loki sighed, continuing to loom nearby as Amelia arranged the vegetables and potatoes on the tray.

 

_‘Tis the season to be jolly, fa-la-la-la-la la-la-la-la._

 

It was exciting to experience Christmas with the Avengers. Tony was quite extravagant with the decorations, and if the pile of wrapped presents below the large tree was anything to go by, it was fair to claim he had been quite generous with his gift-giving.

 

Thor and Bruce were sampling the eggnog while Natasha and Steve were hovering by the spread of snacking foods on the table. Clint had gone home to his family for Christmas, and Loki had smugly stated that the archer would regret not staying to try Amelia’s cooking.

 

It was a peaceful day. Everyone was happy.

 

Amelia squeaked suddenly when Loki pinched her rear, and swung around to give him a finger-wagging warning, “Pinch my ass again and the halls won’t be the only thing getting decked!” She was only half joking. It was difficult enough to focus on preparing the evening’s meal without Loki doing his best to distract her, even despite claiming that he wanted the food to be made faster.

 

“Keep moving your hips like that, and the turkey won’t be the only thing getting stuffed”, Loki retorted, his mouth curling into a smirk over his crude statement.

 

“Excuse me, but if you’re going to be groping each other, can you maybe not do it in my kitchen? Thanks.” Tony called across the room, and Amelia felt her cheeks grow hot with embarrassment.

 

She glared back at Loki and pursed her lips, finishing up the turkey so that she could place it in the oven and leave it to cook while the God of Mischief remained smug, blatantly peering down at her ass when she bent to do so.

 

“If you keep that up, you aren’t getting any of this Christmas dinner”, Amelia threatened. Although she was used to Loki’s antics, she was a little put off at being slightly mortified in front of the other Avengers.

 

Loki’s seemed to do a one-eighty immediately, a deceptively sheepish look appearing on his face, and he shrugged his shoulders before pulling a moderately-sized, wrapped gift-box seemingly out of thin air. He held it out with a smile, “Alright, I apologise for my behaviour. Maybe this will make up for it?”

 

Amelia blinked, staring at the gift in his hand, and then quirked an eyebrow, “You got me a present after practically begging me not to get _you_ anything?”

 

“You got me a gift last Christmas. The gloves. I didn’t get you anything then, I’m getting you something now. So we’re even. Plus, you’re cooking, which is a gift in and of itself.”

 

Amelia felt herself smile but shook her head bashfully, “Loki, giving presents isn’t about getting even-”

 

Loki pushed the brightly-wrapped box into her hands, prompting her to open it, so Amelia did; she pulled the ribbon off gently and lifted the lid, examining the contents.

 

It took her just a couple of moments to comprehend exactly what it was inside the box, and when she realised, she felt her lip quiver at the consideration Loki had taken when choosing her gift.

 

It was her mother’s perfume. A fresh vial of it - magnolia and nectarine. Loki must have noted the scent when she had found it at her old home, and he’d taken the time to hunt down the very same fragrance. It was an incredibly thoughtful present.

 

Amelia looked up, her lips forming a pout, and she stepped forward, pulling him into a tight hug, “Thank you, love.”

 

“I’m glad you like it. Does this mean I’m forgiven for pinching your lovely ass?”

 

“I’ll pinch _you_ in a minute.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus, with that dorky as heck ending, Chrysanthemums comes to a close.
> 
> I would like to say here that I genuinely would not have reached this point without all of you supporting me by reading and commenting on each chapter. And those especially who take the time to leave plenty of feedback in their comments - I owe this all to you. I won't name any people in particular but... you know who you are ;) Thank you so much, from the bottom of my heart. I hope you will stick around for the next part of Amelia and Loki's adventures ;)
> 
> If you haven't already subscribed to this series and would like to be alerted by email when I post the next fic, then follow this link and click subscribe: https://archiveofourown.org/series/980412
> 
> I'm happy to discuss End Game in the comments - so be warned if you haven't seen End Game yet, don't go venturing down into the comments because spoilers ahoy!
> 
> And finally, the teaser for the next story. This is the summary for the next fic in this series which I currently have not yet decided on a name for:
> 
> "All Amelia wanted was to work up the courage to tell Loki that she was pregnant with his child; now, she was locked up alone in the cell of an alien spaceship, keenly awaiting a hopeful rescue while exasperatedly musing about how her life was never too simple. Not only that, but there seemed to be an increasingly odd sensation flowing through her veins..."


End file.
